


I Know I'd Go Back to You.

by Zaryav



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bisexual Harry Potter, Draco and Harry play at hating each other, F/M, Gay Draco Malfoy, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin Rivalry, Homophobia, I can't support JK Rowling Transphobia so I write this, Idiots in Love, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Neville Longbottom & Draco Malfoy Friendship, Neville is bad at flirting, Professor Draco Malfoy, Professor Harry Potter, Professor Neville Longbottom, Ron Weasley is a Good Friend, Scorpius Malfoy & Albus Potter are brothers, Sexual Tension, Trans Character, Transphobia, a lot of gay love, hufflepuff is an angel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:00:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23385625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zaryav/pseuds/Zaryav
Summary: It's been a few years since they last saw each other, but it's when Harry Potter returns to Hogwarts as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor that Draco realizes it's still there.Some would think that their rivalry would end with their adolescence, but the years don't seem to erase the tension between the two, and that leads them to question whether it's really all about quarrels or if there's something else involved. It's only a matter of time before they realize it.Or where Draco is a Potions professor and can't help arguing with Harry about everything.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom/Ernie Macmillan, Percy Weasley/Oliver Wood, Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 14
Kudos: 81





	1. Let a couple years water down how I'm feeling about you

**Author's Note:**

> If you are reading this I just want to thank you. I hope you enjoy it and give me your opinion.

September, 2006

**DRACO**

Anyone with the ability to count with five fingers would know that drinking alcohol the day before the first day of school is the biggest mistake they can make. However, they seemed to ignore it.

The deafening sound of music filled his ears and the strong smell of whiskey ran through his head. Of course Draco wouldn't drink alcohol. At least not when he realizes he has a class to teach first thing in the morning, and that's enough trouble to add a fucking hangover.

"Hey, Draco." Neville staggers toward the crowd of people dancing around him until he finally reaches his side. "You come to dance"

He has a drink in hand and Draco internally scoffs that of course Neville Longbottom was going to drink uncontrollably.

"We have classes tomorrow. I don't know if you forgot."

Neville laughs with a shrug. He's clearly drunk. Not enough to take off his clothes and dance in front of Madame Pomfrey, but enough to not be fully conscious.

"Yeah well the point is to celebrate for today, why don't you come over?"

Draco snorts rolling his eyes. Neville is unfazed and doesn't leave. "I'll go to my room," he says, throwing his coat over his shoulder. Neville takes his arm and keeps his gaze on him.

"It's early," he says, moving closer. They're a couple of steps away, he uses it and leans in to whisper in his ear with a laugh. "Enjoy the night?"

His breath reeked of alcohol, he probably drank more than firewhiskey.

What an idiot you had to be, Longbottom, Draco thought.

"Precisely what I want is to sleep. That is my way of 'enjoying the night' "

Draco doesn't expect anything else to put Neville aside and walk out of the teachers' lounge where Principal McGonagall came up with a back-to-school party or Merlin will know why.

He closes the door behind him, noticing immediately that there was a silencing spell in the room. Of course, McGonagall wasn't an idiot.

He saw no reason to have a second party when there was already dinner in the great hall. Did she have a boyfriend and was that why she was in such a good mood?

Draco barely let out a laugh, even to the echo of the hallway. Maybe her own bad mood was due to how bad all his past relationships had gone. Not counting all the boys and girls he kissed drunk in his teens, there were Blaise Zabini, who left him when he discovered that he was actually more in love with Pansy Parkinson than with him, Tracey Davis was his last attempt to prove himself as such. Maybe he wasn't gay and that's why he couldn't find anyone good enough, but it all resulted in the girl's tears because he really didn't seem to love her. And finally, his story with Terry Boot was no better. Just a couple of disastrous dates that ended in "we can't seem to keep up, we should just leave it here, Draco."

"Is the hallway so funny?"

Draco frowns and spins around with a speed he wasn't aware of possessing.

Of course he didn't expect to find Harry Potter there. Not at that time, not in that place, not talking to him.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Harry goes two steps forward, he tries to back two more. His back hits the wall.

"Principal McGonagall called me," Harry explains.

"There are no Death Eaters here, I don't see why she could want you." Draco teases with a notorious   
rudeness in his voice.

Harry then lowers his gaze slowly down his arm until it stays on his forearm. There's a strange grin on his face and Malfoy can't figure it out. Instinctively he reaches into that spot trying to hide his arm from Harry's gaze. Maybe there's a Death Eater to catch after all.*

"I'll be a professor," he says. Look up, again they have eye contact. "I have Defense Against the Dark Arts class."

Draco curses because of course he should have noticed. The party was not for nothing. Minerva would only do something like that for Harry Potter.

"You?" His voice comes out in an incredulous and very annoying shriek.

Harry nods. Then Draco notices the huge trunk floating behind him. No one carries a trunk that size for a visit. Especially he must have noticed by the absence of the Auror uniform that was replaced by muggle casual wear.

"Yes, well-"

"Harry, you came!"

Neville opens the door, the noise hits them abruptly. Harry's startled by the sudden appearance, but Draco doesn't even laugh when he sees him jump in place.

"Hello, Neville," Harry says, smiling. "Too much alcohol again?"

"You have to drink Flitwick's smoke liquor," he laughs. He notices Draco's presence and points it at him, he rolls his eyes. "Come in Harry, or are you also being a bitter fool?"

Draco clicks his tongue.

"Tomorrow don't you'll come to ask me for help with your hangover, Longbottom." He points his finger at it. He rotates in his place ready to go to sleep, perhaps to give himself some attention, or whatever the dream he was feeling in his eyelids gave him.

"I won't have a hangover," Neville says. Draco smirks.

"Sure, Longbottom."

He's leaving.

It's Draco's third year teaching at Hogwarts. He teaches potions because he always thought it was what he was best at. He owed a lot to his godfather.

In his first year, he had to share an office with Neville. At first as in everything, the matter bothered him excessively, but one thing led to the other and both turned out to be quite good, so being part of the younger teachers of the school was no longer a big problem. In their second year they were given different and separate offices. They were small and did not have the best view, but it was nothing a couple of spells couldn't fix. They were also given the title of heads of house. Of course Draco took Slytherin under his wing. Neville for his part was more interested in having Hufflepuff. _"What would Godric Gryffindor thinks of a tremendous felony like that?"_ Draco had told him when Neville broke the news. _"He doesn't give a shit,"_ Neville replied sipping his tea with a smile behind the cup.

He liked Neville, he was a good boy and he didn't hate him, which was the important thing at this point. He had a fondness for talking about exotic plants up to his elbows, true, but if you could divert his attention, he was someone interesting to carry on a conversation with. He had become "hot", as the girls defined it, and that led him to receive confessions from students at least once a month. And it would have been funny if it weren't because it was actually scary.

He admits that it's normal to have a crush with a teacher, he himself had it, but sometimes the students exceeded it. Like that time, at Christmas his first year as a professor where Mathilda Lambert gave him a box of chocolates with amortentia. That was a severe afternoon of talking with her parents and student tears. McGonagall prohibited her from doing it again unless she wanted to be expelled. Of course she didn't stop him in the hallways again, but she still feels their gazes as she passes by the large dining room.

He barely finishes his breakfast and heads to his classroom in the dungeons. He says goodbye to Neville with a mocking smile when he sees him appear with dark circles under his eyes and an obvious migraine that seems to be drilling his brain.

"Have a wonderful first day!" Draco yells near Neville.

"Fucking Merlin, Draco, shut your mouth." Draco responds with a laugh and Neville frowns in pain.

"I won't even tell you I told you," he says with a humorous look, "but yeah, I told you." Neville mutters something that sounds like go to hell, but ignores it. "Go to my living room after the second hour and I'll make you something."

"I can't," he laments, "I have a two-hour class with Gryffindor."

"Well, send someone, I don't know."

"Fine thanks, dude."

When he arrives at the classroom he finds it empty, however, the students begin to arrive little by little in groups and end up separating by houses. Hufflepuff is on one side while Ravenclaw takes the other end, they're a third year and do not look at each other.

The atmosphere is tense. Draco clears his throat, going from behind the desk to taking his place in front of it, leaning back. The glances quickly come to him expectantly. A final Ravenclaw student runs in and takes his place in the back. Draco casts a spell and the door closes. He recognizes a some of students, the others have been erased from his memory, or their names just don't seem to be on his mental list.

He takes a discreet breath, because he is not nervous.*

"I suppose everyone is here." He glances at the late-arriving Ravenclaw and notices his face turning red. "I thought that the presentations would not be necessary, but if I am honest I do not remember more than half of the students."

They all stir in their places.

"Don't worry, I won't ask you to tell me about your life reduced to what you like and what you don't because I certainly don't care if you think Macbeth's Witches is the best RMI band." There's a general laugh. Draco mentally pats himself on the shoulder. "However, I need you to mix with each other. One Ravenclaw and one Hufflepuff in each row."

The group looks at him in alarm, as if a screw had been removed and he's now whinnying with insanity. Draco narrows his eyes and raises his arms to move them.

"What's wrong? Did I say it in Danish?" He asks and picks up the list on his desk.   
"Evan McGregor, are you here?"

A Hufflepuff in the background stumbles to his feet, the group chuckling.

"It's me?"

"I don't know, are you?" A new group laugh comes.

Evan shrugs with a smile.

"Uhm ... yes, I am, I suppose."

"Well, you will sit next to ... Roderick Kettleburn. Raise your hand, please."

Evan stands up carrying his briefcase in his hands. Draco looks at him curious, it's a briefcase decorated with figures that move all over the surface, he has photos glued to the back, Muggle photos that don't move and are quite blurred, he also has small dolls hanging from the strap, and it's probably the briefcase most colorful he had ever seen.

He advances to the front where Roderick Kettleburn points to the seat next to him.

"Great! See how easy it's? Now everyone get together with someone from the opposite house to which they belong and stay like this for the rest of the class because those will be their places the rest of the year."

The movement in the living room makes the place fill with noise. In general, he doesn't notice that there are fighting gestures as he expects to happen with Gryffindor and Slytherin, so he doesn't worry too much and smiles satisfied seeing the new couples he has created as a whole.

Draco was adding the latest ingredients to the calming potion for Neville. He rummages in his closet for the oleander leaves he needs to finish, but he can't find them anywhere. He curses internally because it was obviously a bad idea to start preparing without counting all the ingredients ready and at hand. He keeps looking in the closet until he sees them in a box on top. He takes his wand to bring them with him.

"Neville sent me for a potion." Harry Potter calls from the door frame. Draco curses as he jumps into his place in shock.

Of course that idiot was going to send Harry Potter.

"Damn it, Potter." Do you have to appear out of nowhere all the time?" He growls.

"Neville sent me for his potion."

"I heard you the first time, Potter. I'm on it."

Malfoy moves closer to the cauldron, tosses the oleander leaves one by one mixing at intervals until the potion turns pinkish on its own, he does an approving addition. He takes the volcanic rock next to him and puts it in the cauldron.

"I have to wait until this floats and it's ready," Draco explains, wiping his hands. Harry comes fully into the room with his hands in his pants pockets and advances the entire length until he's also in front of the desk.

"He's bad with alcohol," Harry says, looking at the cauldron. He doesn't make eye contact with Draco. "That's, it's generally more resistant. Professor Flitwick said he only had a glass of his smoke liquor."

Draco looks impatiently at the cauldron, then at the window and back at the cauldron. He doesn't want to be around Potter and he needs that rock to climb so he can give it to him and the guy to go.

"Come on up pretty, please," Draco thinks without taking his eyes off the potion. He's about to pray to Salazar to get Harry out of his living room and out of his life, if only the guy weren't some dumb idiot.

"How was your day today?" Draco hates him, wants him far, far away, and very quiet.

"I had my first class, Potter, the day hasn't even started."

Harry grimaces. Since when were his eyes so green? Not just green, but seriously, really green. Like two sparkling emeralds in his eyes he would be an idiot if him didn't stop to look.

"Yes, well, was it a good start?"

The rock doesn't rise, perhaps if he look at it very closely it will.

"Yes." He just says. Short words always lead to fewer questions, fewer questions end in silences, generally uncomfortable, but silences after all.

"I'll have my first class at eleven in the morning," he says. He wants to tell him that he doesn't mind knowing about his class and that he knows he doesn't care either, to stop being friendly or shit, but he doesn't.   
"When I told Neville I was coming he said you would probably be upset."

Draco stops looking at the cauldron. He arches his eyebrows and crosses his arms. Probably annoying? The devil is wearing it. Neville could have told him that Harry Potter would come to teach at Hogwarts, they were in contact all the holidays, there is no excuse that is worth not having told him.

"I don't care."

"You don't look like you don't care tremendously."

Draco bites the inside of his cheek and sighs heavily. "Don't think I care so much about you, Potter."

Frowning, Harry nods at him, pointing to the cauldron. The volcanic rock has already gone up, the potion is ready and if he give it to him quicker he'll soon get it out of his sight. He takes a container and pour as much liquid as he can into it. He makes a note with clear instructions and hands him the knob. He takes it and looks at it for a couple of seconds without bothering to thank. He wants to tell him to leave, but it's not necessary because Potter is already leaving the classroom until he stops in the middle and without turning to look at him he says:

"I thought that we could coexist behaving like adults and not like immature children, I see that it is not like that."

Potter finally leaves his classroom and his new group of students begins to enter to take their places. Draco calms down trying to suppress the urge to get out and jump on Potter's scoundrel and crush him. However, Draco takes a deep breath and does his best for a calm smile.

"Good Morning Class."

He's afraid he will not be able to go this year with the tranquility he had planned. Although he has never been able to make Harry Potter move of his way.


	2. Everybody knows we got unfinished business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco sees himself in one of his students when he tells him that he's gay.  
> And Harry doesn't give Draco good news.
> 
> "Oh, don't you know?" Draco swears he sees him smirk.
> 
> "Know what, Potter?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kudos! I've never had so many.

September, 2006

**DRACO**

"Kirley Duke's guitar solo far outperforms Heathcote Barbary's," says Neville, clapping his hands across the table.

"Whatever Kirley does, Barbary can do it in his sleep." Neville raises his hand to his chest in disgust and shakes his head with his eyes closed. Draco laughs and brings the coffee cup to his mouth.

"Kirley is amazing," he mutters.

"What kind of an adult would I be if I destroyed the illusion of a child?"

Neville scowls at him, narrowing his eyes. Malfoy keeps his expression mocking.

The two remain silent. The radio continues to run on the Wireless Magic Network and when the Macbeth witches' turn with "Do the Hipogriff" ends, Draco stands with the papers from the last job he commissioned from his class in hand. Neville continues to hum the song on the radio as he grades his students' homework.

"Did you hear Flitwick leaving the choir?"

Neville shakes his head in time to the music. It's a new group, Draco doesn't know them and because of how bad they sound, he doesn't care either.

"Haven Kingsley asked me if the choir would be closed," Draco snorts when he sees that Neville is still more focused on the music on the radio than what he's saying, he throws a spoon at him and slaps him on the arm. "Are you hear me?"

"I'm listening!"

Draco clicks his tongue. Neville narrows his eyes and turns fully on him. Of course she wasn't listening to him.

"You are a bad listener." Neville denies it. "I didn't know you cared so much about the chorus. Even I didn't know you cared so much, especially," he says, resting his chin on the back of his chair. "However, I think they're looking for a new choir teacher, McGonagall loves these recreational things that keep the guys out of the adventure seeking attempts." Neville shrugs. Draco takes a step back, leaning his back against the wall next to the coffee table. They remain in a new silence until Neville suddenly straightens up as if Merlin had given him the answers to his doubts. "She could bring Myron Wagtail!"

How pathetic you are, Longbottom, Draco thinks, but doesn't say.

"I don't understand your obsession with that group."

Neville smiles and throws his head to the side. "Well, they played my first dance. It's nostalgic."

"Sure," he says with a smile.

He didn't have a good Christmas dance. He attended with Pansy Parkinson and everything would have been fine until the time when Blaise took him to a secluded place where he kissed him, managing to confuse many things in him. The following weeks he didn't speak to Draco and if he fell asleep in the bedroom, he didn't notice. Then in fifth year, Blaise asked him for an opportunity to clarify his feelings (of course it was only going to be his test, of course he didn't know it at the time, and in a way Blaise was his test too). He took advantage of his position as prefect to sneak out with him, but two months later he simply left with Pansy claiming he wasn't as interested in boys as he thought. No, let's just say he didn't treasure dancing very well.

"Seriously, why are you so interested?" Neville asks.

Draco shrugs, putting the coffee cup on the table. Takes a napkin and wipe the corner of his lips. "Let's say I need a better salary."

Neville looks at him. Eyebrows raised up and mouth slightly open quite surprised. He immediately denies as if he is taking something off and stands up. "You?" He points at him with a smile. "Draco Malfoy as choirmaster? That would surprise me to see. And let me tell you that, Hagrid showed me Ashwinders eggs, I just thought it would be impossible for anything else to leave me speechless." Draco crosses his arms in annoyance.

"Oh, is that why you never shut up?" Ask mischievously. Neville makes a face and mutters something that sounds like "very funny Draco, you are very funny."

"Do you at least sing?"

"Of course not. I'll teach singing without the slightest knowledge of the subject, Longbottom." He says sarcastically. "Of course I can sing."

"Yeah," Neville says, standing up. "I guess I wish you luck."

"Mhm," Draco says.

The first weeks are over and Draco doesn't meet Harry for the rest of the days. Neville mentions something about the Gryffindor Quidditch team and that he's the head of the house, but it doesn't matter. He prefers to focus on assessing who his best students will be (or technically who he has the most faith in). He has Evan McGregor, a rather distracted and cheerful Hufflepuff, not a novelty in his house and Eleanor Aknes, from the same house. Connor Tremlett and Alek Millicent from Ravenclaw are also a good bet, there are six outstanding Slytherins, it doesn't surprise him and he still can't find a Gryffindor. Maybe in it's time.

He likes Evan, he's a good boy. He's not his favorite type of guy, but somehow he likes him. He's quiet when he has to and talks up to his elbows the rest of the time. Draco would say that he's a friend of all the students in the school or simply that there is no one who doesn't know him.

Neville told him how he put a spell on Gilbert Clearwater to make him bubble every time he opened his mouth. He should have deducted more points from Hufflepuff not only because of the mischief, but because it was against a student from his house, but Gilbert had to learn to shut his mouth and if it was a joke he was going to teach him to be quiet. Upstairs, he couldn't help but silently thank Evan.

He reminded him of the Weasley twins, no bright red hair and such annoying behavior.

Today he was grading an essay he commissioned on oak seeds in his own classroom because the last few weeks Potter had decided that the staff room was the best place to spend his free time. They had the same hours, except Monday and late Friday, where sometimes, if he was lucky, he decided that going flying on his broom was a better idea than staying in the staff room to grade essays and homework.

In fact, it made sense that he was there all the time; He didn't have his own office yet because the Defence Against the Dark Arts office had a Grindylow infestation or something like that and the remaining classrooms were no better than that room where they had coffee on hand, and cinnamon cookies if they were lucky and the elves felt happy to make an extra dessert.

Be that as it may, he had an office and if he could avoid Harry as much as possible, he would use it even if he didn't have coffee or cookies on the table next to him.

"Professor Malfoy?" A voice called from the other side of the door, immediately recognizing him as one of his best potions students.

"Come in." The door opened slowly, the boy ran into the office, closing the door behind him. "What's going on, Tremlett?"

There was a moment of silence that Draco found disturbing, even for someone as quiet as him. He leaned across the desk and pointed to a chair for him to sit on.

"Is everything okay? It's the third week, don't tell me you've already gotten into trouble." Joked. The boy didn't laugh, but shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Draco's smile faded from his face, something was going on. "Connor?"

"I just wanted to ask you for a partner change for your advanced potions class," he says. Draco looks at him surprised and puzzled.

"I need a justification, I can't change you without a reason, remember you were assigned by-

"Gilbert has been harassing me," he responds quickly, avoiding direct eye contact. "He hasn't stopped since... He does it all the time, yesterday he said that..."

Draco becomes alert when he sees Connor's crystallized eyes that have already started to shake. It's not normal at Connor Tremlett. He is generally peaceful, with almost no expression on his face.

"Connor, look at me." The boy continues to tremble looking at his taut thighs. "Connor, look at me," he repeats. Connor nods, facing him. Draco notices makeup on his face, in the chin area. Oh no-. "Hell, Connor, what did that idiot do to you?"

Connor denies scared.

"I can't say, he'll tell my family."

"Connor, if you've already come to see me and your integrity is under attack, you have to tell me so I can sanction him."

The color fades from his face and his generally large eyes become much larger. He denies.

"No! If he knows I said something, he will tell my parents."

"What is he going to tell them to keep you so worried? Whatever you've done won't change their perception of you. You're a good boy."

Connor begins to hyperventilate looking more annoyed, as if the dementors are going to come in at any moment to take him to Azkaban. Like he'd killed someone and then left his body in the bathroom with Moaning Myrtle.

"I like... boys." Connor whispers it so softly that for a moment Draco doubts if he has heard correctly or if it is a game of his mind taking advantage of the familiarity of the situation.

Silence finds a place between them. Draco doesn't move, he doesn't know what to say or what words to use, and Connor looks down, waiting for the professor to kick him out of his office requesting his direct expulsion from Hogwarts. But that never happens. Draco instead gets up from his spot and walks around the desk to sit down and walk over to Connor.

"There's nothing wrong with you liking boys."

He says it for Connor, but somehow he says it for him too.

"My parents will kill me. My- my sister would be ashamed of me if she... knew."

"Connor, your sister loves you."

"You don't understand."

He wants to tell him that yes, he's probably no one else in all of Hogwarts who can understand him better than him. He wants to tell him that he lived through it and that now he's here to support him, but he doesn't know if he should or if he can.

"Explain it to me then."

"Gilbert found me looking at- Peter Helmings," he explains, "then he pushed me against the stairs and said he would tell my parents that their son is a... faggot." Connor was crying. At this point, Draco was no longer worried, he was angry and turned to rage. He wanted to go and hit Gilbert with his own hand. "He's been doing it since last year, but now we have more time together."

Draco understood Connor's position. He was the pride of the family, the first man in generations, not the first-born, but the youngest of the Tremletts. His mother bragged that her son was a Ravenclaw with excellent grades, his sister was part of the Auror strategist team. Probably the best of his generation. It wasn't just about whether his son was gay, it was about not wanting to be an embarrassment.

"If you don't want me to say anything, I won't." Draco agrees. "I'm going to change your place."

Connor looks at him gratefully as he nods. Tears fall down his cheeks, but he doesn't cry anymore.

"However," he begins, "I'm not going to let you hide something like that from me. I'll keep an eye on Gilbert, but I need you to tell me if he's going too far. No matter what, I need you to tell me, okay?"

"Yes, professor, thank you."

"Good." He nods satisfied. "Now come on, my next class has almost started."

Connor nods. They both get up to leave, but Connor stops to thank him for the support. Draco tells him that he has nothing to be thankful for, but that the boy is giving him his best kept secret and the power to completely destroy him.

He can tell by his expression. He's putting his whole life in his hands and Draco is scared.

In the next few days, he's in charge of changing Connor for Evan McGregor and takes him as far away from Gilbert Clearwater as possible.

The whole thing actually results in incessant talk. Evan is determined to make all his friends, he might get bored by someone as reserved as Connor, but he has seen him smile when Evan doesn't see him, so he thinks that for the moment everything is fine. Still, he doesn't let his guard down and seeks to keep Gilbert busy and Tremlett close.

"You should join the choir." Draco tells them after finishing advanced classes.

Evan nods excitedly.

"Good! We could sing something about the Beatles."

Connor denies it. "I don't know how to sing".

"Well, All you need is a little help from a friend." Evan sings without worrying about singing correctly the song. Connor laughs.

Connor laughs and doesn't know who is more excited.

It has not been the same in recent weeks. Who would be the same knowing that his mother can call him at any time to tell him that he is a disgrace? But Evan has added him to his recurring circle of friends and while he doesn't seem sure he fits in, after three years he's trying.

"You are pretty when you laugh, you should do it more often."

"To Helga's ears, hurry up, McGregor." Evelyn Wolff arrives at the classroom door and takes Evan away so fast that she doesn't have time to see Connor's reaction.

A great blush and a downcast look.

"McGregor is right, Tremlett."

Connor smiles.

Draco asks to lead the choir and they accept him.

Haven Kingsley is the first to welcome Draco as a new singing teacher. The enthusiastic Gryffindor girl explains the voice type of each of the choir students.

"It's Teddy Lupin, isn't he adorable? He started this year and he's Hufflepuffs, aren't the Hufflepuffs adorable? He's tenor and we make an amazing duo."

Evan McGregor and Connor Tremlett are auditioning for choir. Evelyn Wolff accompanies them and she also does auditions. They aren't amazing, but he lets them in.

"We will start next week, you don't occupy Tuesdays and Thursdays after four because I hope to see you here."

"When will we sing something about the Beatles?" Evan asks.

With the new occupation that was the choir his free hours were reduced considerably so Neville returned to spend all his time with Potter. He was taking his new best friend.

Not that he liked Neville all the time. Sometimes he was too silly and sometimes too optimistic.

In short, Neville was exhausted.

A little time outside wouldn't hurt, but he didn't want to leave everything to Harry Potter either.

After two classes with the Ravenclaw fifth-year group, Draco was finally able to relax in his office chair.

He appreciated Fridays more than any other day. Usually it was his busiest day, but he didn't have to worry about the next day, and for a teacher that was a lot to say, especially when everyone seemed to have a problem with Potions, even the Slytherin students, and that was tremendously disappointing. .

"We need to talk." Draco opens his eyes looking quite affected by the interruption.

"What the hell are you doing here, Potter?"

Harry ignores him and enters the office without permission. Drop a couple of sheets on the desk.

"It's about the planning the Quidditch match," he says. Draco obviously, what else would Harry Potter be interested in? "The next game is Slytherin vs. Gryffindor."

"I don't see why that should matter to you," he replies. He has a raised eyebrow and his best face doesn't give a shit.

"Oh, don't you know?" Draco swears he sees him smile.

"You know what, Potter?"

"I will be the referee."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to apologize for any mistakes, this time I used words that were a little out of my knowledge. I would be so grateful if you let me know of the mistakes.


	3. Playing and replaying old conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The match between Gryffindor and Slytherin comes to the stage, but nothing can go wrong, right?
> 
> "What do I do here?"
> 
> "You passed out, buddy," Neville whispers, his face troubled.
> 
> "For how long?"

October, 2006.

**DRACO**

If it bothers him?

Draco wanted to scream and pluck his teeth to wipe the stupid grin off his face. If it bothered him? What an idiot was asking! Of course it didn't bother him. He was furious.

The cunning way he had gotten to his office was the same when he left. He obviously relished the opportunity to tease him, and he could feel him savoring victory by ruining his life (which honestly isn't an exaggeration). But he was very wrong if he thought it was going to make things easier for him, especially if Harry was making fun of him.

He's hardly had time to sleep for a decent few hours, no doubt, but his back hurts the next morning. Draco has not had the same luck as before and it seems that his anger manages to totally attract Harry like a magnet because he finds him everywhere. Round the corner of a hallway, in the staff room, on the Quidditch pitch, and even in the bathroom, where he just huffs and rolls on his feet.

He curses all the time for everything. The game is coming up and his team doesn't seem to have a decent search engine. Kyle O'Neill keeps his head in the clouds and if it weren't for racing against time he would be looking for a better search engine. It is not explained how such an absent boy reached such a decisive position for a match. Influences? Says the little voice in his head. Or wasn't he having fun fighting Potter instead of playing?

They practice indecent hours and honestly, he doesn't see an improvement. Nothing extraordinary outside of a team that plays very well, but needs more than that. Slytherin needed more than that if they wanted to win the house cup. Probably now that Dumbledore was dead ten feet deep, there would be no one to remove the stitches from under his shoes to give the stupid goblet to Gryffindor. Over and over again And Draco can bet his best clothes that more than one is happy about it.

The headache adds to the list of problems that accumulates in his back that Thursday. The day doesn't start well and doesn't seem to want to improve. He's teaching the second-year Gryffindor group. Everything turned to disaster and grunts of impatience.

"Merlin, Christine." He brings one hand to the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath. "I've already explained ten times that absinthe is not added at the end." He's desperate to get a good potion for today's class of at least one student. 

"Jeremy says that absinthe goes before glass," says the girl. Draco denies it. It was a mistake to think that the day couldn't be worse.

He leaves his robe on his chair and walks over to Christine Hemlett's cauldron to finish the potion of the day. Draco can see the tiredness in their eyes, but the hour is running out and the group runs away from the final conclusion. Nobody waits an extra second because they swear they had even packed their things.

"Damn," Draco murmurs, dropping his face into his hands as a sign of his own defeat. He's being very soft on them. He may hear his godfather reproach him for not sending them six homework scrolls, an essay on how wormwood is not added before the crystal drops.

"From your face, anyone would realize that it was a shitty day." Someone says behind his back. And no, it's not what he needs now. Of all that could have come, this is what he least needed.

"Well, it's now that you're here." Harry laughs. Why the hell is he laughing? "Now what do you want, Potter?" Draco carves his face and turns as if it hurt to do so. And it could be true.

"I was just going to say hi." Harry is still leaning against the door frame as if there is nothing better to do.

Draco doesn't respond. He's tired and it's been a bad week. He stares at him without an expression that says something really decipherable, he doesn't make an effort to say something.

Harry and everything his existence implies are wearing him out. The team that is excellent, but not extraordinary; the classes that nobody seems to understand because maybe he's a bad teacher and nobody had made him notice until now and even the endless tasks to grade that make him consider putting all that shit of homework down the drain. Everything, absolutely everything is consuming it in a slow and painfully painful way. As if what little youth he has left at twenty-six is evaporating, leaving him in a poor shell.

His eyes see Harry's face and the useless potion on the table. He goes back to Harry and his gaze turning into something more worried, and suddenly everything is spinning, he looks at his own blurred hands and it's a matter of seconds for everything to be black and his body hurts.

The last thing he hears before he passes out and falls to the floor like a sack of potatoes is Potter running to the rescue, repeating his name as if he was seriously being paid to do it.

Pathetic.

Wake up after what he feel was a long and heavy dream. The back of his head hurts and his mouth feels dry. He's lying on a stretcher in the infirmary with his head bandaged. Open his eyes with the clearest view. He meets Neville sitting to his left and looking away he finds Potter sitting in another chair with half his body on the stretcher beside him.

"What happened to me in Salazar's name?" He murmurs so low as he puts his hand to his head to rub where the pain lies that he doesn't realize that Neville wakes up instantly.

"Draco!" In Merlin's honor, you woke up! Draco responds with a wince at the painful noise and Neville puts his hands over his own mouth as an act of mending his mistake. Or alternatively avoid it next time.

"What do I do here?"

"You passed out, buddy," Neville whispers, his face troubled.

"For how long?"

Neville's face changes to something more annoying and he responds: "Well, apparently you had been skipping meals, so you were taking all this shit without a gram of food in your stomach." He scolds him, Draco frowns annoyed. Neville was no one to come to scold him for what he did and did not do. "Honestly, mate. What were you thinking without eating so long?"

"Don't talk to me like that, asshole," he bluffs. "Tell me how long I've been here because I need to leave as soon as possible."

"You've been here a week and a half."

Draco's face turns white and when he tries to stand up suddenly he feels the overwhelming pain in his entire body that does not allow it and makes him return to his starting position.

"I'll go find Pomfrey." Neville stands up as he leaves the room as fast as he can to avoid facing a Draco in a tantrum.

Draco mumbles how much curse hits his head, but the disturbance seems to stab everything he has left so he takes a deep breath until the heart resumes its initial rhythm. Turn his head where Neville came out just a few seconds ago and look at Harry Potter next to him again. His mouth is open with a string of drool falling down one side and his hair is more disheveled than normal. It's gross disgust and looks like any hobo he might find himself in the knockturn alley around every corner. If he been here a week and a half, that means the game is next week. He's no longer disturbed because there seems to be nothing he can do at this point other than wait for Pomfrey to let him go, but considering that he has been unconscious for more than two days he sees it as impossible no matter how much he does.

Draco doesn't realize he has been staring at Harry until the man scrambles into place waking up from his sleep. He's not wearing his glasses and he assumes he doesn't see him looking away quickly. Harry stretches out on the nightstand and probes several times until he finds the ugly round glasses and brings them to his face.

"Oh hello. You woke up."

"Did you really notice it?" Draco says. Harry remains silent, his gaze fixed on him until he makes a strange movement and quickly wipes the drool from his mouth and tries to accommodate his hideous clump of hair and then finally speaks again.

"Do you ... uh, do you feel something like better?"

"My head hurts, and your horrible voice at 120 decibels doesn't help me much."

Harry apologizes quietly and remains silent for a while looking at the infirmary as if being there all the time during his stay at Hogwarts wouldn't have allowed him to know the place by heart.

Pomfrey almost runs in with Neville trying to keep up with the woman and failing at all.

"Professor Malfoy, finally you wake up."

"Everyone seems to be noticing. How wonderful."

Pomfrey frowns at him. "Don't use that tone on me."

Everyone remains silent as Pomfrey talks about Draco's condition and how he won't be out until after a few days of reviewing especially his meals. Which doesn't stop Draco to protest, although he's completely ignored by Pomfrey.

"And you, Mr. Potter." The woman turns to look at him, pulling him out of his reverie. "It seems that you has the strange luck of being the one who brings your friends to the infirmary whenever you are here."

Harry is about to speak when Draco interrupts him saying that they are not friends at all. The woman only says that friends or not, if it hadn't been for him, no one would have found him until the next morning.

Draco then waits for the remainder of the week in the infirmary and Neville tells him that he and Harry were with him the entire time since the incident and forces him to eat to his limit. Pomfrey doesn't let anyone see Draco for his upcoming recovery and part of him is glad to know that his students have wanted to see him, but he also knows that he's not taking account of the Quidditch team and the idea is killing to him. 

**NEVILLE**

It's Tuesday and Neville is listening to music when Draco arrives at the greenhouse.

"I don't think Harry is capable of cheating."

Draco is folding his arms trying not to touch anything around him, turning to him with a frown than before. "I'm not going to wait to find out."

Neville leaves the garden shears on a pile of dirt and takes off his gloves. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to talk to him in a greenhouse, Draco got much more pointy when he came out of his natural habitat between neat walls and clean floors (which a garden full of earth and worms was not).

"I've known him since we were eleven years old, he would never cheat, I know."

Draco clearly looks much more upset, and he must have guessed this would happen.

"Me too. I've known him since I was eleven! We hated each other ever since, did you forget?" Neville narrows his eyes. How to do it if it is all he repeats?

"No, you hate him, he's just the fool who plays with you."

Malfoy is silent as Neville checks the leaves of his crops. He firmly believed that Harry Potter was plotting a trick against his home, he was sure, what other reason would have him so happy to be the stupid referee of the match? The idiot was a Quidditch fan, but even he wouldn't be happy being a mere mediator in the game.

"What is happening is that you are putting Potter ahead of me because he is your childhood friend and you have been treating me for three years, what is that against more than a decade with the great Harry Potter?"

Neville sighs. Draco is taking this too far again.

"Are you doing a scene of jealousy?"

"No."

"Okay, because they're both my friends, and I'm definitely not" opening and closing quotation marks " 'taking a favourite' or whatever."

"Then why are you on his side?" He needs to be quiet. He should shut up, but he doesn't.

"You're doing a great drama, Draco," he murmurs with a combination of patience and weariness. This is not leading to anything good. "You should be objective, you are an adult. He'll not cheat because it is not something he likes to do."

Draco is silent for a few seconds. One moment he is looking angry and the next he seems rather disappointed. His stomach churns.

"All right." Draco gets up from the bench where he had resigned himself to sitting. He snatches up his things and leaves the greenhouse.

Neville makes no attempt to stop him. He stays for a moment listening to his footsteps back to the castle, but he doesn't move. He doesn't want to see himself in the position of having to choose one of his friends as who he likes the most, or who made fun of him the least all this time because there were certainly many other things in his friendship with Draco or Harry. If they believed he was going to enter their game they were very wrong.

He continues in his duties to keep everything in order with the crops. Sometimes he stops to write down advances that he notices on the leaves of some, or if his experimental crow cane fertilizer has worked well enough.

And okay, he's trying to push his recent fight with Draco out of his mind which is not good because Draco is not just anyone who gets mad and lets it go by with the days, he's more sensitive than that. He knows his routine, he's going to lock himself in his office to write the thousand and one potions that he knows by heart, and he's probably going to invent one that will not go well, so the next thing on his list is to cry and get depressed because again he will. He feels lonely and abandoned by the world (and he's being selfish for not clearing things up, but he must also mature).

He stops. Harry walks into the garden with a smile, he hasn't seen him since morning at breakfast.

"Hey, are you busy?" He question. Neville shrugs and no, he really isn't doing anything more than ignoring one of his friends. "I finished my last class and didn't want to go back to my room."

"I hate going back to my room," he says. "I never thought I would say this, but it was better to share a room with yourself and others."

Harry nods smiling.

"Although Seamus wasn't very quiet." Neville laughs.

"You weren't with the whole Voldemort and nightmares either." Harry smiles, but soon it becomes something he shouldn't have said. The war took a lot of everything. A part of them was also flooded with memory. And although he knew that Harry had never given in to the fear of the name, it brought with it something new and inevitable.

"What did you do?" Harry changes the subject by grabbing the scissors from Neville's hands.

"I was only fertilizing." Harry nods, is about to start checking the place out of curiosity when they hear footsteps and Neville looks up where it is completely blank. Harry also looks over at the footprint spot and sees a boy with the yellowest blond hair he's ever seen and a pompous expression.

"Oh, Merlin. Merlin, Merlin, Merlin." Neville moves all over the place trying to remove the dirt from his pants and almost crying when he approaches Harry to ask him if he smells like dirt.

"What happens?" Harry laughs at Neville's sudden behavior. He turns and takes it by the lapel of his coat.

"Ernie Macmillan is out there!"

"What about Ernie? Why is he here and why are you being so upset about him?"

"I like him. He's the beautiful guy I told you about, okay?" Neville whines before taking a breath. "I don't know what he's doing here because I haven't asked Hannah's herbalist for a job."

"Take it easy, it's just Ernie." Harry takes him by the shoulders with a calm voice and a smile.

"He's not 'just Ernie', Harry, he's Ernie, the guy I've liked for two years. I cannot calm down."

"Neville, are you here?"

**DRACO**

The days go by quickly and the Quidditch match is already present at the table.

It's a cold Saturday morning, Draco forced his team to eat a light nutritious breakfast and then took them to warm up an hour before the game. Kyle the seeker was falling asleep instead and if he paid attention he would notice the disinterested atmosphere of his team.

They were making him furious.

"What's wrong with you? Don't you want to win the house cup at the end of the year?" The Slytherin team turns to look at him in surprise. Of course they wanted the cup.

"We have practiced tirelessly every day. Gryffindor is not even that good." Gilbert Clearwater yawns. Scoundrel.

"We have everything sorted out, professor." Fresia McKinnon shrugs. She's the captain, competitive by nature, from whom she would least expect so much trust, but perhaps she should trust the instinct of his students, they were no fools.

"Okay, he sighs. The game is about to start, I will go to my sit. I hope they don't disappoint their peers."

Draco leaves the field and enters the crowd of students to go up to the teachers' place. Neville is there when he arrives, but they don't greet each other, he doesn't even bother to pretend he didn't look away uncomfortably.

The students are euphoric. Gryffindor is a screaming and banner mess with their house crest. Slytherin students have the same emotion, but they aren't that loud. Hufflepuff students talk to each other, don't pay much attention, and the Ravenclaws present are countable on their fingers. However, he's glad to see Connor for the first time in a match alongside Evan who sneaked away with his home.

"A wonderful morning for a game, don't you think, professor?" McGonagall arrives next to him. Not surprised to see her there, she was a Gryffindor head and a huge Quidditch enthusiast. Maybe she'll give the magic points to Gryffindor if the world really wants to kick his ass.

"I would have preferred a little more sun." Put his hands together to get friction and get some heat.

The woman nods without smiling. Teddy Lupin turns on a large microphone that makes a deafening noise at first, but immediately apologizes and catches everyone's attention by announcing the start of the match. Draco scrambles into place.

"For today's game we have the newest Hogwarts teacher, Gryffindor house boss Harry Potter, as referee." A general cheer floods the field, Teddy smiles before continuing. "The first team to make an appearance is Slytherin. Fresia McKinnon is in the lead guiding the lineup, behind her is superb puncher Jerome François recovering from his injury last year. What do we have here! Gryffindor's Darrell Jones is not intimidated and flips into the sky, is that a Centella 3006? Wonderful! One for each team member. What a great game awaits us with brooms of that caliber."

Draco feels a knot tighten in his stomach. Try to calm down, after all the Centella 3006 weren't a big deal, the Windbreakers were much better, faster, and less wobbly. And Fresia McKinnon was terrific with her strategies, they had nothing to worry about if she was on the lookout for any suspicious Potter moves.

"Harry kicks off the game!"

"I told you to call him Professor Potter, Lupin!" Professor Flitwick admonishes Teddy. A general laugh is heard when he apologizes.

"Gilbert Clearwater hits that bludger and almost hits Darrell Jones, he seems upset." The public boos Gilbert. "Calm, Leonor Byrne takes the lead on the field. And by the moon, fly like lightning! Is this the next professional Quidditch player to come out of Hogwarts? Hey, Jude!" A general laugh floods the field. "Jude Singh appears alongside Milton Li to block Leonor's passage ... and what's going on! Kyle finally wakes up from his dream! Watch him fly through the sky. It seems that good John Davies will have to take care of this boy's back if he doesn't want to lose the golden snitch."

Draco smiles as Kyle flips all over the place. Harry hesitates to see him brush past him. He's excited because if this goes well, the cup will be his at the end of the year and he'll have something to be proud of for the first time. Something that his father will not buy him.

"WHAT I SEE? KYLE O'NEILL HAS THE SNITCH IN HIS HANDS!" The Slyhterin explode in applause and shouts of celebration. Kyle falls to the ground and everyone runs to him to celebrate. Draco prepares to run to his house to celebrate until he meets Harry's gaze with a smile that doesn't give him a good feeling, but the game is over and there's nothing he can do.

He's going up to the common room to celebrate with the biggest smile he can put on until McGonagall appears at the edge of the stairs annoyed with Potter behind her and calls out to him. A knot is made in his stomach, and he doesn't know if it's fear or anger because he knew this was going to happen.

"My team didn't cheat!" He exclaims furiously. "It's Potter playing a trick on us!"

"I would never do something like that." Harry walks over to Draco with his hand outstretched. I found this in the field.

Harry hands him a bottle that says Felix Felicis on the label. Draco gives it to him with outburst and reproaches that it is not from his team. He's convinced that this is not the case. They would never do something like that. The strange confidence of the boys that morning meant nothing; They had trained tirelessly for weeks, it was nothing but the confidence of effort.

"My boys are bad at potions, it's impossible that they have accomplished something so complex in such a short time." "Draco snorts with derision.

"You could have planted this staging! No one would be such an idiot to take it to cheat and put the stupid name on the label!" Malfoy shoves Harry.

"Mr. Malfoy!" Principal Mcgonagall gets to her feet just as or more furious than Draco. "We'll call the Slytherin team to confirm or not their innocence. Argus, call the Slytherin Quidditch team. And you, you better calm down or I'll take my measurements."

Filch leaves Mcgonagall's office and runs with Mrs. Norris in hand. The three of them wait until Filch returns with the students who appear in the office with incredible calm for someone who has been called to the principal's office. Even when they have won a Quidditch school match.

"Professor Potter found this in the Quidditch field." Are they known to you?

"No, who would take him to a game?" Fresia McKinnon faces with supreme calm. She is like that, except for Quidditch.

"Exactly, Miss McKinnon. Any ideas, Mr. Milton?" The boy shrugs, but behind him Kyle shivers like crazy instead. "What's the matter with you, Mr. O'Neill?"

"It's ... mine, I named it because I was afraid of losing him." The entire teen team winces.

Draco feels the blow to the stomach, he doesn't know if the color is fading from his face or if it's red. He cannot define what he's feeling right now. Mcgonagall stands up pulling the chair back and stands in front of him.

"Who gave it to you?" Kyle points to Fresia. "Is that true, Miss McKinnon?"

Fresia takes a deep breath and denies with calm and a severe frown of outrage, but Jude Singh nods and stands in front of her teammates even though Milton and Jerome pull her to stop her. "Fresia said she would guarantee us the match," she says. "Kyle was so bad in practice that we all thought a little help would be good, just enough for the game. Professor Malfoy was so convinced that Professor Potter would cheat that we believed we could also cheat when Fresia offered it. I'm so sorry."

"What can you expect from dirty blood-"

"Silence!" Draco yells red with fury. His hands tremble and if it weren't for the strange lighting the others would have noticed his watery eyes. "I want ... I'm sorry, director. I can retire?"

McGonagall closes her eyes and nods. Draco leaves as fast as he can, but manages to hear the punishment for his house. They will have two hundred points less on the final point count. Malfoy stops in the middle of the stairs, falling onto a step.

He is ashamed of being a bad teacher and especially disappointed in his team. Annoyed at being an immature idiot who wasted his time thinking about Potter playing tricks on him as if they were still fourteen years old. He was an idiot who would never achieve anything. Not a steady relationship, not an apartment that wasn't depressing shit, not even a stupid worthless school mug. _Maybe he was just a pathetic idiot playing not being one._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love Neville too much with Ernie, I hope I can explore more about their relationship later. I don't know if there's anyone around here who likes this couple too.
> 
> Also in the next chapter the waters between Harry and Draco will begin to calm down.


	4. And I could fight, but what's the use?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Then he observed Potter who was barely shaking his head to the music with a smile, obviously drunk.
> 
> Would he have leaned into Quidditch? The Chudley Canons were always at the table in any discussion on the subject, there were even rumors about Potter being recruited to play the Caerphilly Catapults as a seeker, but turning them down for an Auror position in the ministry.
> 
> Harry Potter had always struck him as one of those who sought fame and recognition, but apparently, they were all ideas of Draco himself.
> 
> Toxic Poison started with The end of the work and that was the outlet for Draco, he needed air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the beginning of the year I had decided to stop this fanfiction because of the transphobic comments of the author, as a trans person, the least I want is to support people who seek to oppress us as a minority. I feel like I am failing my community to continue with this, but I dare say that if any trans person is reading this, my profile is always open for you, and for anyone who needs to speak to someone.
> 
> Stop to send hate to us or anybody, it is stupid and so fucking selfish and privilege.

October, 2006.

**DRACO**

The next morning the weather didn't even seem to improve. Draco doesn't need to poke his nose through the window curtains to realize what a cloudy and rainy night it is outside.

The room feels freezing. He fidgets between the covers looking for a warm place between the covers, but the empty space next to him is much colder and his skin instantly bristles sending a wave of chills throughout his body. He turns back to his previous position cursing under his breath. He hadn't expected winter to take over the ideal fall weather this year. _He didn't have a lot of other things planned, if he was honest._

The cold doesn't let him go back to sleep for more laps than he does instead. He tucks the pillow under his head once more, but that doesn't seem to help much either. Draco is lucky at least, his first class is not until ten in the morning and in case you don't sleep overtime, he will at least get a full day's sleep.

He stands still looking at the ceiling of his room. Waiting for the dream to come back to him, he still remains quite awake.

A knock on the door makes his heart race in surprise. Who in their right mind knocks on a door at three thirty in the morning on a workday? He wasn't willing to find out because the person would leave as soon as he came to his senses and leave him alone. But the world hates the idea of leaving Draco Malfoy alone, and the blow returns this time safer and stronger.

Between curses and murmurs of anger Draco puts on his coat and gets out of bed feeling the cold ground on his feet and cursing for not having taken a pair of socks or shoes. He has his wand in hand in case it is an emergency and some Death Eater escaped from Azkaban and they plan to assassinate him for being a fucking coward. He could almost hear Fenrir Greyback's bitter laugh or Barty Crouch Jr.'s annoying lip movement.

He opens the door just enough to see who was behind him with his hand wrapped in his wand under a firm grip and almost drops it from his hand when he sees Harry Potter.

"Hi," Harry says.

Draco stays in position until he opens the door carelessly and frowns so hard he gets dizzy for a second.

"What are you doing here?" Spits. Harry doesn't back down. He maintains a desperate and worried expression.

"I was... was passing by and I thought that," Harry stumbles on his words, then shakes his head and clears his throat putting his fist in front of his lips. "I wanted to know if everything was okay- If you... you were fine, actually."

Draco laughs. "Like you care." Harry frowns in imitation.

"I care, Malfoy. That's why I'm here."

"No." He sentences and takes two steps closer to Harry with a dangerous look that makes Potter recoil. Draco could have scoffed, but he doesn't. "You don't care. You're here because you're making fun of me, you're taking this opportunity to rub my face that you won and that I'm a stupid bad shit teacher and-

"Don't put words in my mouth, Malfoy." Harry sounds furious when he says it, Draco is unfazed and on the contrary, all that does is to infuriate him even more. An enormous fury grows inside him. "Why do you only expect the worst from me when I try to get close to you? We are adults, leave that stupid teenage rivalry in the past. I played with you for a moment, but you took it too seriously." He brings a hand to his forehead and rubs his face, drawing a deep breath after the small space of silence. "I don't think you're a bad teacher, Malfoy. But you are being a prideful jerk. And yeah, it's okay if you don't want to have anything to do with me, I'll understand, but you're even ruining your friendship with Neville, and you're hurting him. As a friend of Neville's, I'm in a position to step in."

Harry turns around without waiting for Draco's response and his figure disappears into the dark hall of the teachers' dormitory. Draco slammed the door and yanked his hair tousled even more than it already was. He hasn't spoken to Neville for almost two weeks, Draco avoided anyone who might question him about the last game, and that included students alike. And he wouldn't admit it out of pride, but he was ashamed, after all he had acted like an eleven-year-old boy.

Harry Potter was right, again.

_Fuck._

**NEVILLE**

After the last Gryffindor match against Slytherin, Neville caught a horrible cold that was boring his head from the endless headaches and constant runny nose that had already irritated his nose to the point where Neville believed that at any moment the tip of his nose would fall off. the nose in pieces.

Of course, after noticing that this was not a temporary thing, Neville went to the infirmary to see Madam Pomfrey, however, right at that moment she was out shopping for supplies for healing potions. What luck he came to touch, and just when Draco was mad at him.

"I think you'll have to go out to Hogsmeade to buy some pepper potion." They are in the staff room. Harry has stacks of papers around him and the letters keep pouring in through the window.

"What is all that?" Neville points to the owls coming and going with more and more letters that appear to be from the ministry.

"Hermione is somewhat worried about the command of Aurors. He asked me to check a few things about the werewolf records." Neville nods calmly before letting out a big sneeze that makes him jump in place, some scrolls flying into the air. "You want me to go to Hogsmeade? You look... bad, mate."

Neville denies waving a hand in the air. Too busy wiping his nose with a tissue that he holds with his other hand. "I can go, I need some fresh air anyway."

"Are you sure, Neville?" Harry looks at him doubtfully too tempted by his hero's heart. How lucky to have this man as a friend.

"Yeah, besides, the werewolf records are more important, I mean, Teddy hasn't stopped talking about it in herbology classes." Harry nods with a wistful smile. "This is important to him."

"Remus would have liked to see this... the change that is being made. Sirius would probably have a Fire Whiskey party and everything to celebrate." Harry's cheerful tone falters for a second, but the smile doesn't leave his lips.

Christmas was spent with the Weasley family, Neville's grandmother had passed away two years after the war and he had no one else for the holidays, of course the always cheerful Weasleys took him under their wing. For his part, Harry lived in the Black mansion with Teddy and they appeared together anywhere. Everyone loved talking about his parents with the little Edward. The great adventures of the sensible Remus Lupin and the rebellious Sirius Black.

The gleam in Teddy's eyes was indescribable, especially since discussions to improve conditions for werewolves were under discussion.

"We couldn't expect less with Herms in command." Neville nods trying his best to smile, the stuffy nose killing him.

"Ron is always talking about Hermione and how she's the best magic minister ever had in the wizarding world."

"You know Ron, he's proud of her." A new horde of letters arrives at Harry's desk, he whimpers, Neville even feels a little sorry for him. "I can help you with that when I get back."

Harry waves a hand in denial before speaking in a tired tone. "You need to rest. If you continue like this you will not be able to attend the Halloween party."

The outing to Hogsmeade is not as quiet as he expected, with the Halloween party so close everyone seems to be shopping for their dinners at the last minute, which generates a great fuss in the shops and on the streets of the small town.

Neville sees Hannah's botany at the other end of the street and is glad it's Thursday. Ernie doesn't work on Thursdays, he tells himself ignoring the voice in his head that blames him for being a stalker because in fact it was Ernie himself who gave him that information on one of his visits to Hogwarts.

Oh, if only he wasn't a wimp to talk to Ernie Macmillan he wouldn't have to worry about making his cold schedule not coincide with Ernie's schedule things would be less pathetic.

He would be less pathetic, at least.

Neville accelerates his steps to cross the wave of people that flood the streets until he reaches the door of the botany. He tucks his nose into his Hufflepuff scarf and hides his hands in the pockets of his old corduroy coat (a Ron's gift last Christmas). After he learned to weave he seemed to have taken the tradition from his mother and decided to make one for each of his friends. The man was talented, by the way.

He almost bumped into some witches and wizards doing a dance outside The Three Broomsticks a couple of times before arriving at Abbott Herbs and Mushrooms. The place is hot, contrary to the cold weather outside, which sends a rush of heat to Neville's body, which he's grateful for after having spent all the way there shaking.

Observes around him the majestic plants in the small greenhouses that rest on the ledges. A click comes from the bottom and Neville turns with a grin ready to meet Hannah.

"What are you doing here, Nev?" The girl is in front of him, the same or more smiling than Neville.

"Cold," he says, pointing to himself. Hannah pouts.

"Poor man, why didn't you go to the Macmillan store?"

Another important fact that Neville had learned in life was not to appear near the Macmillan Botics, because of his stupidity he did not make the connection with the last name and soon discovered that it belonged to Ernie's family, specifically his sister. They were apparently a legacy from Slytherin where the black sheep ended up in Hufflepuff.

"Ernie..." he replied. Hannah nodded mischievously, teasing Neville's blush that made a cute combination with his nose already red from the cold.

"Oh, so you haven't told him yet."

"Don't pretend surprise, he's your best friend, you'd already be the first in know."

Hannah shrugs. "What can I tell you, Nev? There are no secrets among Hufflepuffs." Neville smiles. "But I imagine you've come for some impatiens capensis. Not to talk about how in love you are with my best friend."

"How did you know what I am missing?" Hannah snorts like it's obvious, it probably is. Neville's brain malfunctions under the influence of a bad cold.

"Ernie gave you mandrakes a few weeks ago, you couldn't finish them so soon."

Point.

"Ugh, don't even mention it, it was horrible, he must think I don't like him."

"He suspects you're strange with him, but I don't think he thinks that."

Heaven is no better when he finishes his little visit to Hannah that extended to an afternoon of tea. He had apparently received a delivery of exotic plants from the Brazilian school of magic and Neville couldn't resist taking a look at a strange white walnut orchid.

The gray clouds spread in the sky like smoke, Neville quickens his pace as the rain begins to fall hard. He puts on his coat cap, but it doesn't seem to be enough, so the second thing he tries is to teleport as close to Hogwarts as possible.

His body feels wet when he field of vision returns. Everything is dark, he can see the castle a little closer, and he realizes that he is on the lake.

"Neville! Are you okay?" Man's heart stops when he hears that voice. He turns in the water feeling the drops fall hard on his body that is shivering with force. Ernie Macmillan, so handsome with his blond hair and hideous Muggle sweater, watches him with huge blue eyes and an expression of palpable concern.

But at the worst possible moment, his cold decides that it is time to play a bad trick on him and when he sneezes a balloon of mucus comes out of his nose. Disgusting.

Shame grows in his body, the blood runs up his neck until his face feels hot, and he just wants to cry and disappear, sink into his misery or drown in this lake. Anything is better than having Ernie Macmillan in front of him when he's wet and with a balloon of mucus up his nose.

He doesn't know who he hurt so badly in his other life, but he begs for mercy.

**DRACO**

Draco is finishing up chorus rehearsals with some Ravenclaw students who decided to join in at the last minute when he sees Neville walking in the rain accompanied by Ernie Macmillan. Neville looks embarrassed and if Draco weren't so surprised he would have laughed three long, loud laughs.

"Good afternoon, Malfoy." Ernie who arrives at his side greets him with a nod. Neville keeps his head down.

"Macmillan." He just does the same.

"Thanks for joining me, Ernie, see you." Neville speaks quickly before heading down a hallway to climb the stairs to his room.

"He has a cold," Ernie says, pulling a jar out of his pants. "Could you give him this from me?"

Draco nods taking the bottle of paprika potion between his fingers. Ernie says goodbye by conjuring an umbrella with his wand. He turns, ready to follow Neville.

Of course he has two options when he's in front of the door. He could leave the jar on the door for Neville to find when he comes out, but there's also the option to swallow his pride and not act like a jerk who isn't a good friend for a change.

And oh hell, being an adult meant not being shit, especially with one of the few adults who didn't shirk like he could bring the unnamed to life.

He knocks on the door, two light knocks that deep down he hopes will not be heard.

One, two, three seconds and nothing, Draco wants to escape, but the door opens showing a pathetic Neville Longbottom with a red nose and watery eyes. Draco can hear The Witches of the Valley with his best known heartbreak song, "Broken hearts of Fire." Which could only mean one thing, Neville had another one of his fits of self-pity for Ernie.

"What do you want?" He asks with a sore throat. Draco plays with his hands and bites the inside of his cheek.

"Macmillan asked me to give you this for your cold."

Neville received the pepper potion.

"And I... wanted to apologize for everything I said the other day in the greenhouse, and for forcing you to choose between Potter and me and for... for being an idiot, in short."

The man nods moving to let him pass, Draco enters the room. It's warm and full of photos, muggle photos that don't move, and books about all kinds of plants.

"I forgive you. Neville mutters. And I also want to apologize for not trying to fix things."

Draco shakes his head. "I was behaving like a stupid child." Neville laughs and he imitates it. They don't lose their habits and it's a good thing. "What happened to Macmillan?"

Neville falls back on the bed with a plaintive wail, like a wounded dog.

"I ran into him when I was coming back from Hogsmeade, my magic goes out of control when I have a cold and this time I appeared at the lake." Draco's puzzled gaze is on his body. Lucky for Longbottom. "Right at the worst moment my snot came out! A mucus! Like looking like if a centaur kicked me wasn't enough."

Neville's gaze fell on Draco who was shivering instead, the man rolled his eyes and snorted.

"Come on, laugh if you want."

Malfoy burst out laughing and Neville whimpered louder, even kicking with embarrassment.

No, they didn't lose their habits.

  
Halloween night comes so fast that no one sees it coming. The potion Ernie sent Neville did its job in a timely manner and in less than a few hours the cold was gone, clearing the bridge for a grand celebration of fire whiskey and dragon smoke beer.

"I don't know if I'm ready to go back to headaches, guys," he said at Halloween dinner. The Slytherins had taken great care in decorating while the rest of the houses were more concerned with getting the best sweets. Except for Hufflepuff who was more eager to give the best candy. Like Evan McGregor who's searching through heads of the students for the shy Connor Tremlett.

"It's Halloween, Neville!" Potter answered eagerly. He had his plate full of goodies.

"It's Friday, you won't have to worry about a hangover tomorrow morning." Malfoy shrugged cutting a piece of steak. Harry clicked his tongue in agreement.

"Ugh, okay, I guess."

Nearly Headless Nick was on the Gryffindor table singing an old Halloween song.

"Heard the Hufflepuffs are having a party tonight." The three men's gazes shifted to Headmistress McGonagall who was watching them through her half-moon glasses.

"Oh yeah." Neville cleared his throat. "They asked my permission, it's something between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, Professor Flitwick knows about that."

The woman nodded with the same expression as always. Even though they were adults now, Draco was still a bit intimidated by the woman. With her graceful posture and imposing aura, everything about her screamed that one wrong move could cost you dearly.

"I'm retiring, I'll have to make a lot of hangover potion, apparently." Draco put his napkin on the table before leaving.

The alcohol rose through his veins, he felt like a layer under his skin that burned, as if he had been injected with adrenaline and all he could feel is the rising heat in his blood, a fervent need to shoot all his energy into something.

Music flooded the room, The Goblins blared, Neville as always danced deftly, the colored lights shining on his face and the drink in his hand shaking to his beat. Draco always wanted to ask, if Neville hadn't leaned toward herbology and being a teacher, would he have been a dancer? The traveling circus of the Prichatt brothers always carried great dancers from Russia and Scotland. It would have been a good life, traveling the world without worries, receiving ovations from the public.

Then he observed Potter who was barely shaking his head to the music with a smile, obviously drunk.

Would he have leaned into Quidditch? The Chudley Canons were always at the table in any discussion on the subject, there were even rumors about Potter being recruited to play the Caerphilly Catapults as a seeker, but turning them down for an Auror position in the ministry.

Harry Potter had always struck him as one of those who sought fame and recognition, but apparently, they were all ideas of Draco himself.

Toxic Poison started with The end of the work and that was the outlet for Draco, he needed air.

With careless steps he left the room to go to the astronomy tower. He hummed in time with Kingsley as he dragged his long limbs through the hallways, ignoring the annoying noises from the squares on the walls.

Being this drunk made him feel light, like all his problems didn't exist. The pressure of work, the problems with his family, his own homosexuality, the choir, Connor, none of that was invading his mind. The only fixed idea was the desire to feel the wind on his face

The good astronomy tower was usually used by lovers to have some privacy, in years past it did not bring up good memories for Draco, but now he usually used it to observe the sky and smoke his pipe. Unfortunately, tonight he didn't have it with him.

"A bit dangerous being here, don't you think?" They hadn't spoken since that early morning meeting. Draco didn't pay attention, the night was too captivating.

"I know how... to take care of myself."

"You could always fall."

"Pessimistic enough to be you, isn't it, Potter?" His words trailed, in a way much like his younger self with that elegant accent he used all the time. "Why do you always follow me?"

"It seemed like a good opportunity to talk, to make the passes. I saw you reconcile with Neville." Draco hummed in agreement.

"It really was embarrassing."

His cheeks were red and hot, his lids felt heavy. He was totally drunk.

Harry sat next to him sliding his body down the brick wall. The moon shining at its highest point allowed for proper illumination.

"You're a good friend."

"I do not think so." Harry snorted.

"You have to be to give in and Neville appreciates you."

"He's an idiot, after everything I did to him when we were kids."

Harry shakes his head and shrinks into place. "We are all a little foolish when we're kids. Ron and Hermione fought all the time."

Draco laughs.

"They obviously liked each other."

"Yeah, I never really thought about that." Draco hugged himself to warm himself. "I still remember her wedding day, Ron was so scared, even when at eleven years old he called her a nuisance." A cheery laugh came from Potter.

Something in the environment felt strange, it was not a matter of the season or the effect of alcohol on his body taking over his mind. There was something surrounding them, something like magic that rose through his body when he cast a spell. Something just like when he rebelled against the dark lord.

"I'm gay," Draco says.

Silence.

"Oh, It's okay." Harry nods.


	5. And every time we talk we just fight.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hey, idiot, you left your damn boxers in my room." Draco stomps into the orchard. He stops when he sees Ernie next to Neville, and then a smile replaces the scowl on his pale traitorous face. "... MacMillan."
> 
> "Malfoy, hi." Ernie greets without the usual regular smile.
> 
> Neville gives Draco his best serial killer look. "You look like a fucking mouse," Draco would have said given the chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Homophobic language and internalized homophobia. If this doesn't do you any good, please take a break. Or I can alert you as soon as the scene gets too hard, I'll put a small notice in capital letters and italics.

November, 2006.

**DRACO**

The next morning after the Halloween party, Draco set about handing out some of his hangover potion to all the teachers and the rest of the school staff, not before saving some for later. The first to arrive was Neville who had never looked worse, followed by Professor Flitwick who looked very calm even after he had finished a bottle of Firewhiskey by himself and at last he was excited to not see Harry the rest of the morning. At least until three in the afternoon, when he was going through some things in his office until he showed up.

"Good afternoon, Professor Malfoy," Harry said, entering the room with a pale face and a wince that didn't look very well combined with his kind smile. His generally messy black hair was far worse than a nest of dragon eagles.

"Potter." Draco just nodded in greeting as he poured the potion into a vial. Harry took small, careful steps forward until he was in front of him. He was wearing a pair of Muggle jeans and a rather baggy old shirt with a pattern unrecognizable to him, a drawing of a mouse with red shorts and gloves on his big hands, rather silly, in his opinion.

The atmosphere, on the other hand, felt tense, in a way very different from any that has been between them. Even very different from the one they had during the war. And it all felt overwhelming, almost as if his lungs were shrinking and his stomach was creeping up his throat to be thrown up into a very tight knot.

The memories of the night before hit him hard and although they were vague and fuzzy, he could recall confessing his sexual orientation to Potter. A blur of Potter sitting next to him in the astronomy tower, the cold autumn wind gently hitting his face, the ghastly thoughts of how pretty Potter's emerald green eyes were, or how favorable their difference in height was. in a more intimate situation.

Merlin help him if he's going crazy.

"Professor McGonagall told me you'd give us hangover potion and er..."

"Yes," he answers in a whisper. Harry Potter isn't even looking at him. _Come on,_ Draco thinks, _tell me how disgusting I am now._

"Well ..." Draco holds out the vial with his gaze fixed on him, testing him, an incredible desire for a fight growing in his body. "Thank you for this."

"Hmm." Draco bites his tongue, Harry turns around ready to go which increases an indescribable sensation in his gut. A feeling of relief, disappointment and anger, the desire to fight and deal with this at once. Everything grows like a suffocating tickle in his body.

If he plans to tell everyone, if he decides that if being an ex-Death Eater isn't enough to destroy his life, being a fag probably would. Look at stupid Draco Malfoy, not only is he a fucking ex Death Eater, he also likes other men to touch his dick, how does that sound?

"Uh, Malfoy?" Draco looks up, Harry continuing to avoid eye contact.

"What?" He asks sharply, Harry stirring instead too focused on whatever it is except the man in front of him.

"About yesterday, I... uh, just, er-

Merlin, this is bullshit.

_Shit, shit, and more shit._

"Just spit it out, Potter," he says, angrier than he expected. Red cheeks and a tingle up his spine making every spot on his body bristle. "You can't even look at me now, can you?"

Potter looks at him, green eyes that somehow look both annoyed and scared at the same time. And the gaze on his body only increases Draco's need to fight.

"I just wanted to tell you that I won't say anything." He says, his jaw tightening. "Thanks for the potion."

The man turns around for good, and doesn't give Draco time for an answer. To Draco's torture, he doesn't feel any better after that, he just feels like an idiot trying to step forward, but only takes ten steps back trying.

All it does is ruin whatever he touches. First Blaise, then Pansy, then his family, the wizarding community, Neville. Even the idiot Dumbledore who believed in his goodness, who saw not a dark wizard, but a frightened child. Scared for his future, for his life, for his parents.

He hated remembering the war and all its mistakes, the people he lost. Goyle and even Crabbe. Harry Potter did nothing but bring to life the memories of a spoiled stupid boy who lived in a bubble of privilege until that night when his father returned with Bellatrix and told him about the dark lord.

And then it marked him forever.

Even without Potter around, he would always have that mark on his forearm reminding him that Severus died because of him. That his godfather killed for him.

November had been a quiet month after his altercation with the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, usually there was nothing to upset the stirrups in Draco's mind. All the students were getting better at Potions by then and the 7th graders they finally managed to create an almost perfect Amortentia. The suspension of the Slytherin Quidditch team was also ending that month and things couldn't be better, at least until Haven walked through his office door being timidly followed by two Hufflepuffs and a Ravenclaw. His long skirt accompanied by bright gray and pink rhombus stockings wavy with his constant bobbing.

"Miss Kingsley, I didn't expect to have you here," he says politely, but hopes the slightly stern tone will stop the girl. She still had third-year Gryffindor class essays to score, and the conclusions about ginger in healing potions were mixed. Especially if you had Emmeline Vance's daughter in your class, as upright and strict as her mother, but clearly less introverted.

"This year it's the choir competitions against the other schools of magic."

"I know."

Connor and Evan step back after sharing a quick glance. Teddy stays in place without realizing that his teammates backed away.

"And I already signed us up." Draco's gaze rivets hard on Haven's body. She smiles slightly undeterred. She has large teeth and full lips, which makes her indifferent smile stand out a lot.

"Did... what?"

The girl closes her eyes and sits in one of the chairs ignoring Draco's annoyance. "I aspire more than the Magic Wireless Network of Europe, sir. My boyfriend Almir says I have a future in America, even in Asia. Can you imagine me giving a concert in Mahoutokoro?"

"We try to stop her." Teddy Lupin muttered from the back rubbing his arm in embarrassment. He was so much like his father, he even had the same stooped posture, he was slim and had grown almost two feet since he was eleven. If you gave him a couple of scars and a bigger nose he would be identical to Lupin.

"You don't even know how to keep the tones high!"

"Not yet, Lord, but we will and we will shine with the solo that I will do." Haven put her hands spread across her chest. "Teddy wrote a passionate love song for me, details about his muse it's in secret, of course."

Draco turned his gaze to the blond boy again, surprised to see that his hair was as red as his face. It would have been fun another time, but not this time.

"Salazar, Kingsley." Draco ran a hand over his face wearily. They hadn't started the choir long, barely a couple of months, and that was a lot to say, rehearsals were limited to half an hour a week during exam seasons. "You definitely aren't ready for a public performance, much less an international competition where to top it off Beauxbatons students would be the near-perfect at anything. Did you at least check with Principal McGonagall?"

Haven's gaze drifted and she gasped for a few seconds, there it was! Of course she left the dirty work to him. He wanted to yell at the girl for not considering that McGonagall would slit her throat if he asked her permission to enter a contest that they were in fact already entered. _That's right, director, I completely ignored your authority and let my boys enter a contest without consulting you, because I don't give a shit, woupsie._

Merlin get down at once and kick him in the balls. It would be the perfect cherry on the cake right now.

"Okay, you didn't ask her and you're hoping that I'll fix it."

She nods twisting her mouth.

"More like coping with circumstances, Professor Malfoy."

Evan punched her on the rib to make her shut up and she squirmed like he'd just tickled her a lot.

"You're going to kill me, one of these days. You're really are going to kill me."

The plan to approach Principal McGonagall had to be fail-safe, not very flattering because she would know right away that something was up, and nothing to be a jerk because she and anyone else hated assholes. He had to find an exact middle ground between being nice, but not very nice, and rude, but not too much. Which in itself was difficult considering that Draco Malfoy had never been good at dealing with Minerva McGonagall, not when he was eleven years old, not now twenty-four. She was a tough nut to crack.

"You just yell a lot, you're always yelling," Neville murmurs from his desk stuffing a crisp into his mouth. Muggle junk food was something they had become a fan of in recent days.

Draco wrinkled his nose, a grease stain smeared on one of the scrolls Neville was grading.

"Of course not, asshole," he said, tossing him a napkin.

"Yes, that's right, if you're not yelling at me, you're thinking of yelling at me." Neville shrugged. Draco now threw a ball of paper at him that landed right in the middle of his face and then landed on his potatoes. "Oi! Watch out for my crisps."

Draco laughed. "How are the preparations for the next game going?" Neville shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"Jenna and Kevin can't agree on positions." And ask me if I know anything about Quidditch. I don't even know the basic rules! Ron was always there to explain to me what the hell was going on in the field."

"That's what you have Potter here for, right?" Harry was sitting across the room near Professor Flitwick who was taking a nap. The man waved his wand as he read some scrolls that floated in the air and an enchanted pen signed each page he finished reading. Neville turned his gaze to his friend and his lips twisted.

"He's busy with the whole ministry and werewolves business."

"What about werewolves?" The tone of uncertainty in his voice.

"Hermione is opening the case to create better conditions for them, they will no longer be locked in cages during full moon nights. Or at least that's the idea, Harry is researching one of the enchanted forests in Wales to make a refuge." Neville explains. "I found that they have trees with healing roots that will help them."

"Why are you interested? Werewolves have an extremely dangerous rating according to Ministry records."

Neville moved closer to him. A hand placed on Draco's shoulder. "Edward Lupin's father was a werewolf. We all saw how difficult it was for him to bear the pain after the transformation... Harry says it was worse when Sirius was... gone."

Draco nodded, that explained the sudden happiness Teddy exuded even in potion classes, where he honestly sucked.

The last time Draco saw a werewolf was at his parents' mansion during the war, when the dark lord recruited Fenrir Greyback and his entire pack to fight alongside him. The look the werewolf gave him still gave him nightmares and the strongest retching he's ever experienced. It was the gaze of an animal gazing at its prey, and years later he discovered that werewolves like Fenrir were capable of recognizing men like Draco.

And a part of him was glad to know him dead and underground.

"Then I'm glad for the changes to the werewolf law code."

"Well, we're still waiting for the wizarding council and the Ministry to approve it."

"Ugh, those decrepit old men. You can't expect anything good from a bunch of idiot old men." A laugh echoed behind Malfoy, he whirled around with a frown so frowning it probably reached the center of his face.

"Hopefully they'll authorize the modifications." Harry Potter looked tired as he spoke, two large dark bags settled under his eyes and the emerald green was surrounded by a faint reddish color that replaced the white. Draco didn't let his guard down.

"If you're busy giving a good presentation, I'm sure they might consider it." Draco says very calmly, but his body was burning under his skin, as if he had an instinct installed in his body and the need to fight Harry had grown. "They love graphics, but you should know that by now, you worked with them after all."

"I did, and they're the worst, you're not wrong about that, Professor Malfoy."

Harry nods smiling, then slaps Neville on the shoulder and leaves the staff room.

"What was that?" Neville asks.

Draco twists his lips in annoyance. "Nothing."

**NEVILLE**

There's nothing Neville enjoys more than tending his garden and spending the day with his plants, maybe except music.

Music was all Neville lived for. From The Witches of Macbeth to The Goblins, everything served in Neville's musical repertoire when it came to music, and he wasn't simply a receiver like Draco, for him it didn't matter if the guitar solo was good or if the drums were good to the beat of the lead singer's voice, or if the backing vocals sounded good. For Neville, music was a dance partner. Or just a pretext, to hell.

He had heard a couple of years ago from his grandmother that his mother loved to dance to the beat of a very famous muggle singer from her youth, David Bowie. And that Frank, his father enjoyed accompanying her despite his two left feet; and then the dance was no longer just shaking the hips to the rhythm of a guitar and a tambourine. Dancing was perhaps his only connection to his parents.

Alice and Frank Longbottom, the happy newlywed couple who were killed by one of the worst hexes during the first wizarding war.

There wasn't much to hear about two adults so young they were barely old enough. Did his father like Quidditch? How did Frank meet Alice? Was she as beautiful as in the photos? Was she as smart as everyone said?

They loved him?

His grandmother was never very expressive about anything, the less decent words that came out of her mouth, the better it seemed for her and for anyone. And Neville didn't have much time in the presence of Remus and Sirius to find out more than those old conversations at one of the Order of the Phoenix meetings during Christmas '96. They were such short and generic conversations that there wasn't much to get out of them.

"Oh yeah, the intrepid Alice, she liked The Beatles, Neville." Remus nodded, holding a small cup of tea between his long, slender fingers. "George looked a lot like your father, he even imitated his hairstyle in seventh year."

"Who, Frank? Oh come on, Moony, the man was in love." Sirius appeared with an arm around Remus's shoulder. Teddy slept in the armchair near the fireplace.

"Not as much as you from Paul, Padfoot."

"I only have eyes for you, you bloody Moony."

Sometimes Neville wondered if Teddy could remember anything about his parents, but the boy was only two at the time and it was almost impossible. Two years with Sirius and four with Remus, it all seemed like a bad joke from the universe. Look at the sweetest child in the world and take away both of his parents. Take the loneliest man, give him a second of love and take his life away.

Neville never dared to listen to The Beatles again after Sirius' death the summer of that same year. Doing so felt like disrespect for Sirius and for Remus who was so shattered after his death that the full moons left him almost haggard. "Wolf stuff." He had told them.

That is why reform was so important to him. The world owed it to Remus, Sirius, and Teddy. To the hundreds of children who were bitten by Fenrir and other werewolves during the war. Men and boys who were treated like scum and were called dark beasts.

The best thing Neville could do to calm his nerves after the request was sent to Hermione's owl first thing that morning was dance, obviously.

The rhythm of Black Cardigans was stimulating for anyone, it wasn't even necessary to know how to dance, the song itself carried you. ''Be-Sexual'' was her latest hit and was playing on WWN radio despite complaints from some pureblood families. Neville as a twenty-six-year-old bisexual man couldn't feel more identified by the lyrics of the song that spoke of a girl in love with his best friend and fascinated by the beauty of a Quidditch player. Rumors even spoke of Falmouth Falcons player Gilbert Anders as the inspiration for the song. Gina Brilliant's voice was great and it worked like a pretty uplifting vitamin. Full of unmatched energy.

Neville waved his arms in the air and wiggled his hips to the correct rhythm, shook his head from side to side and closed his eyes tightly feeling the music.

"I didn't know you were still dancing."

Neville stopped abruptly, it was as if the world and his heart had sped up at the same time to start moving like mad in space as he struggled to catch his breath.

"Shit!" Neville yells. He backs up and nearly falls to the ground, then shakes his head in denial. Dumb dumb dumb. "Ernie, hi, I- yeah, like I do all the time. I don't like- it's not something I do during work, or whatever, it's more of a uhm... It's for the... uh, stress?"

"Yes? It seems to work."

Oh, sweet Helga, why did you send this angel just now? Why when he's sweaty and red and definitely not very present to see the love of his life?

How is Ernie MacMillan supposed to realize that Neville Longbottom is the love of his life if they are always running into the worst moments? If there was no snot dripping from his nose, then it was sweat running down his forehead. There is no better aphrodisiac than body fluids, right?

No, it was totally gross.

"Harry sent an application to the Ministry and I'm waiting for it to be approved."

"Oh, yeah, Ron told me about it a couple of days ago." Neville nods with his cheeks still very red, he wants to run to the nearest bathroom to wipe off the light layer of sweat that falls on his forehead. But sweat is sexy according to some of the girls. Neville begs that Ernie thinks the same.

"Yes."

"I guess we should celebrate, right?"

"I'd wait for it to be approved, you know, we shouldn't claim victory ahead of time."

Ernie nods wisely. The years have passed well on him, now he had a slight blond beard and his eyes were much darker than before. He could abandon his little human dignity and sigh falling at her feet. Now, right at this moment.

"You are better now?" He asks and Neville has to do his best to understand. The man seems to understand Neville's bewilderment because he smiles. "About your cold."

Oh, no. Merlin, not that, he had almost completely forgotten.

It doesn't take more than two seconds for all the blood in his body to pool on his face.

"That was horrible, I'm very sorry you saw me in that state."

"What are you talking about? You were sick, it's not like you've grown wings and two heads... although that would be great, if I may say so." Ernie's hand is resting on Neville's shoulder in a comforting way.

"Thank you for- for helping me and for the potion, I wanted to send a letter as soon as possible, but you know, exam season."

Ernie waves a hand in the air. "Don't worry, it's nothing, Hannah said you were sick and if it helped you then I'm well served."

Neville nods with a smile. Of course it was the great Hannah Abbott.

"So you were coming here because she… sent you?"

"Uh, no, I was coming to visit you, you know, and I was carrying some bottles from my sister's pharmacy, it was coincidence. But you weren't there, so I was going home right then."

He nods, a little point of happiness growing in his stomach.

"What was the visit for?" Ernie looks down and an uncomfortable smile spreads across his face. He drapes his right arm behind the back of his neck in what Neville thinks is a nervous tic that reminded him of the younger Ernie who was always accompanying Hannah.

"Same for today, I guess. There's a new bar in Hogsmeade, they say it's quite... interesting."

Hogsmede's new bar that had been talked about so much lately was in fact an LGBT bar that you could only enter through a booth behind Hog's Head. Neville had been itching to go since he first heard from him, but Draco would never agree to go to a gay bar with him since he was still "closeted" and highly doubted that Harry, a straight man, would be interested, anyway.

"I... I was wondering if you would like to go... with me."

Damn, Neville thought. Fireworks blazing in his mind. As brilliant and scandalous as the ones released by Fred and George Weasley during their fifth year. "Damn, yeah!"

"Yes!" he answers quickly. Clears throat. Disguise, as if this were not the consolation of your misery. "Uh, yeah. I mean, it sounds, like, super good and like that, it would be gre-

"Hey, idiot, you left your damn boxers in my room." Draco stomps into the orchard. He stops when he sees Ernie next to Neville, and then a smile replaces the scowl on his pale traitorous face. "... MacMillan."

"Malfoy, hi." Ernie greets without the usual regular smile.

Neville gives Draco his best serial killer look. _"You look like a fucking mouse,"_ Draco would have said given the chance.

"What are you doing here, Draco?" He asks through his teeth with a fake smile and his ego on the floor.

"Nothing sweetie, I just wanted to talk about your underwear in my room." Draco bit his lower lip, feigning innocence. And for Salazar to save Draco Malfoy, Neville would get his hands on that jerk as soon as Ernie left.

"Uh, I guess you have business to discuss," Ernie says very awkward and a little... upset?

"No!" Neville says as Draco says "Yes." MacMillan watches them bewildered. "My friend Draco was leaving, right, Draco?"

"I could use some fresh air, now that you mention it, friend Neville. Your garden has a lot of that, doesn't it?"

"No, I don't think so," Neville mutters under his breath with a frown. Draco was enjoying this, there was no doubt about that. That son of a bitch.

"I asked Neville if he'd like to go to the new Hogsmeade bar with me, but if that's a problem-"

"Why would what be a problem?" Harry asks coming out of Merlin will know where, and why the hell is everyone here all of a sudden? Better put the tea in case McGonagall needs anything.

Draco rolls his eyes in disgust, Ernie smiles shyly at him and if it weren't for his presence Neville would already be hammering right and left. "Ernie and I are going to a bar."

"Yes? Great."

"Do you want to come, Potter?" Ernie asks.

"No!" Neville and Draco reply quickly at the same time. The two boys turn to look at them.

Neville curses them all. Draco, Harry, his cold, and that stupid Hufflepuff kindness that Ernie possessed in just the worst moments. Shit, if the man weren't so handsome...

"Thanks for the invitation, Ernie, but I don't think it's ideal." Draco laughs sarcastically as soon as Harry finishes speaking.

"Nonsense, let's all go together. I bet you want to see Thomas and Finnigan, you guys were great friends, if I remember correctly."

"Dean and Seamus? Did you also... invite them?" Ernie denies with a smile.

"Oh no, they are always there, they are the owners, I have seen them on my outings with Rolf and Atticus." Draco and Harry looked at Neville right away. Atticus Bulstrod was a magician from New York who had settled in Sweden. He made regular trips to Hogsmeade and was the announcer for WWN, everyone was crazy about him, with his shiny curly hair and gray eyes. "We don't stop to talk much. We are not especially close."

"Oh..." Neville says. "It'll be good to see they again, I haven't seen they since uh, I don't know. Time passes fast, I think."

"You know what? Sounds good, Ernie, uh, maybe I will." Ernie smiles back at Harry and is about to speak when a voice yells from his pocket. It's Hannah's voice, Neville acknowledges.

"Oh... I must go, see you in front of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes on Saturday in two weeks at nine, okay?"

The three of them nod as they watched MacMillan leave.

"He'll never be interested in me that way, will he?" Harry purses his lips and drapes an arm over his shoulder to pull him into a hug. "What a fool I am! Who would date a dumb herbology professor with Atticus as a friend? Surely they are boyfriends... Oh no, they are boyfriends and they are the perfect couple. Atticus Bulstrod and his beautiful brown hair, why would Ernie want another blonde?"

Draco rolls his eyes. "Don't be stupid, Longbottom, if that guy doesn't realize how handsome and smart you are it's because he's too stupid and doesn't deserve you. Also, have you seen Atticus? He is not one of those who have a boyfriend."

Point.

Maybe this was just his chance to show Ernie MacMillan how good a fit Neville Longbottom was as a future boyfriend aka husband, aka father of his children. He would have to send a letter to Luna and Ginny to talk about this as soon as possible. Draco wasn't an expert on relationships and Harry had been single since that girl from the ministry three years ago.

**DRACO**

A letter arrives two days later, it is a letter from his mother with the seal of the Black family, signed only by Narcissa, not even her father's last name, only Narcissa. The owl, however, is from the Malfoy family, but Draco doesn't open the letter, as soon as it arrives he puts it in a drawer and forgets it there when he puts his old summer clothes. Months later, he would regret that event, but by then, he was too foolish to know.

With the end of the first semester and December exams coming through the door with the bells set for the holidays, the most exciting topics also began according to Draco. The first few months were simply a preheat with absinthe and fire paprika for simple and almost useless potions, and although he seemed to be the only one excited about it, he knew they would end up liking it. Especially since in third year most of the adolescent crushes arose.

"Is everyone on the correct page?" All eyes quickly wander to Edward Lupin, who always seems to have an answer when it comes to tipping things off.

"What is a tracking potion?" Eileen Jefferson asks, raising his hand. Draco clicks his tongue and points at her sitting on his desk. He crosses his left leg and rolls up his shirt, but stops when he plans to lift his left sleeve.

"A tracking potion is quite similar to a heart compass, it can be poured onto a piece of paper that will allow you to track a person," he explains. Now he's walking around the room glancing at his students. "Much simpler than a spell, yes, but less complex. It will only allow you to see a specific person and there should be a strong feeling towards that person. The so-called bond of union."

"Like the bond of soul mates?" Teddy asks from the front, Draco smiles at him nodding.

"Similar, yes, very good. Five points to Hufflepuff, Mr. Lupin." Evan reaches for a high-five with his partner. "But a follow-up potion can be fueled with any kind of feeling as long as it's strong and persistent. It can be love or even hate. There is an old legend about a witch from whom a Muggle who stole her frozen desert hourglass, she used that potion to find it, but it turned out that she was not fed with hatred, but with deep love. But here we are not for stories."

Several boys laugh blushing.

"Write an essay on bonding, do all you can because it will be very important later. And go thinking about the person on whom you will use your potion."

Draco's classroom bell rings, ending class. All the students collect their books and put the scrolls with the homework from the last class on the table. He smiles at Connor when the boy leaves a scroll at least a foot long. And he shakes his head when Evan walks over, leaving one barely four inches away.

"So you expect me to let you continue in the choir?"

The boy opens his huge blue eyes pleadingly. "There wasn't that much information on French beans, Professor! I searched even under the shelves."

Teddy leaves a scroll as long as Connor's. Evan huffs and hits him playfully with his shoulder.

Connor and Edward struggled at their homework.

"Teddy has Victoire to hand him homework! That is not fair." The bright red color lights up Edward's face and hair. The boy fixes his gaze on his friend in annoyance and shame. So she was the girl he was writing that song about.

"Secrets aren't supposed to be told, bigmouth!" Teddy is walking up to Evan to give him a smack.

"Don't fight." Draco separates them with a stern look and a flick of his finger that pulls them back. "Evan, don't tell your friends' secrets, and Edward, I'll ask you not to copy anyone's essay next time, you're too smart for those things."

"I didn't copy it, professor, I promise."

"It's true, we studied together with Professor Longbottom." Connor chimed in. Evan looked very funny between the two boys, Lupin who had been brought forward a year by his excellent grades being much taller than him just like Connor.

"Evan, let's go soon!" Evelyn Wolff appears pulling the blond boy away. "Gilbert Clearwater is hitting Jeremy McKinley and Michael Henderson-"

"What do you say, Miss Wolff?" Draco asks, standing up so fast that for a moment he gets dizzy. Connor shrinks in place.

"Gilbert is hitting Jeremy and Michael, Jerome François is with him. They are on the stairs to the second floor."

Draco doesn't wait any longer to take long, heavy strides straight towards the students, he can hear the children following him, but for now he ignores them.

_CW_

He gets to the second floor as fast as he can, Jerome has Michael and Jeremy pinned in the air while some students made noise, Gilbert was striking purple sparks coming from his wand in what appears to be a scar-like spell at Jeremy as Michael was trying to get out of Jerome's hold with all his might.

Jerome is about to put a curse on Michael when Draco uses an expelliarmus to disarm them both. Connor luckily acts fast and takes care of taking the boys down with care. They are two students, a third year Ravenclaw and a fourth year Slytherin teasing two fifth year Gryffindors.

"They were taken by surprise, professor!" Yells a Slytherin with red cheeks and tears in his eyes, Rio Wolff.

"Mr. François, Mr. Clearwater, you'd better pack your things because I'll see to it that they are sent home at least until after Christmas break."

"They started!" Gilbert complains, pointing at the couple. "Those fags were kissing in front of me."

"Sh-shut your muh-mouth, Clearwater!" Another Slytherin girl yells at him. Noelle Charming, a fifth year girl who holds the hand of her best friend, Rio.

"Fucking tran-

"That's the last straw, Mr. François!" Draco exclaims, his face is red and the blood boils under his skin. The students back away, even Jerome and Gilbert shut their mouths. "I will advocate for their expulsion."

"What!? Can not do that!"

"No? Try me."

"What's going on here?" Potter comes through the crowd, fixing his gaze on Jeremy and Michael and then turning to Draco for answers. "Is everything in order?"

"No, these- these guys were beating up Messrs McKinley and Henderson." Harry's face changes to surprise and he quickly walks over to the students at his house to ask if they're okay. "I need you guys to come with me to present the situation with Principal McGonagall."

"I'll go with you."

Draco nods. "Mr. Tremlett, please call Professor Flitwick, I need him to discuss a matter about one of your students."

Evan grabs Connor's sleeve and walks alongside him. The Gryffindor prefect appears and makes everyone go to their respective classes.

"Those fags deserved it, next will be that bitch, Charming."

Draco wants to turn around to get that other boy, but they couldn't act until something happened according to the rules imposed by the ministry.

This was all fucking shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a quick point to clear up so as not to create confusion and this will be explained in more detail later. Here Teddy was born in 1994 and not in '98 as in the cannon. But he is a third year student. And Neville's parents died months after they received the cruciatus.
> 
> In the next chapter the action will begin, I promise, I'm just clearing the way so it won't be so fast. I can tell there will be a kiss, that's all.


	6. And I have to convince myself that I don't want it even if I do.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "No, I'm not playing games, that's all." Harry says in his commanding tone. And if he was one of her stupid admirers he might be scared, but he isn't and he doesn't give a shit about anything Harry Potter can say or do so he reaches out to snatch the bottle from his hands. Between the struggle Draco ends up throwing the contents of the bottle on both of them and Harry snorts. Draco laughs for a second until his pants feel too sticky. "We better go clean up."
> 
> Draco can feel Harry dragging him into the men's room, and his body feels strangely light.
> 
> Harry leaves it on one of the sinks and makes sure to hold it under his armpits so he can wipe his pants off, and from Harry's face, Draco guesses he looks pathetic.
> 
> "What the hell are you looking at?"
> 
> "You look funny with that face."
> 
> "My face isn't funny, asshole,"

December, 2006

**DRACO**

Harry has to explain the situation to McGonagall, things are enough to make Draco get a problem with his breathing.

"Just to confirm, Professor Malfoy. Were Messrs. Clearwater and François physically beating Messrs. McKinley and Henderson?" Draco denies in Minerva's direction. She has her long, bony fingers curled on the table as she sets her penetrating gaze on him.

"Jerome was holding the two boys in the air. Gilbert was casting a spell, something akin to the cicatrix. No... I have no idea what he was doing."

"What was the color?" The woman insists.

"Purple, long thin line."

"That sounds like diaboli spinam dorsi removerent," Potter says with one hand on his chin. Minerva nods with a serious face. "Principal McGonagall, I find it quite alarming that a student of his age is using such old magic."

"Indeed, Professor Potter, those spells were used to torture prisoners in Azkaban two hundred years ago. It's quite alarming that a thirteen year old is using it."

Draco shakes his head repeatedly, bringing the tips of his fingers to the bridge of his nose. Everything turns a thousand times. "I think they should be expelled. Sooner."

The woman watches him as if he were a strange creature. "We cannot expel them unless there is visible physical violence, Professor Malfoy."

"And the blows of that spell!? Michael was writhing even when they lowered him."

"It's an unbranded torture spell, ancient magic that leaves only the sensation of pain. Unfortunately it doesn't fall under the ministry code." Harry twists his lips. Draco is pissed off, but even now he knows that making a great scene won't do any good, it's no one's fault in that room.

"Mr. Malfoy, I understand your annoyance, but the power of Hogwarts is not entirely in my hands. However, I will see to it that I punish that pair."

"Punishments don't make people like them change," Draco mutters. He doesn't expect any of them to understand, but for some reason, the look Potter gives him is quite alarming. As if he knew everything that was going on in Draco's head.

The punishment for François and Clearwater is four weeks of punishment without magic. They have no right to go home for Christmas and their families are informed about their mischief with two students. Draco hears that Gilbert Clearwater's father sends a letter to the principal asking her to forgive his son and let him go for the holidays. Fortunately, McGonagall says no and the punishment of the two boys is in charge of Professor Flitwick who also drops a hundred points for Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Which according to Draco's accounts, puts Hufflepuff and Gryffindor in the lead by just three points of difference between the two houses.

Michael and Jeremy are escorted by Potter to their classes and Draco asks Evelyn Wolff to be very aware of his sister Rio and her friend Noelle. Suddenly Evelyn who's always accompanied by Evan is escort with Connor and Teddy for the both girls to go everywhere.

These scenes remind Draco of the horrible school days during the war when everyone walked in groups to avoid being enchanted by some Slytherin who had crossed over to the dark lord. All the half-blood walked near a teacher, even. And suddenly Draco realizes that the war for people like him never ends.

Girls like Noelle don't live quietly, and people like Gilbert and Jerome aren't happy until there's no blood between their fingers.

Of course Draco has a meeting in the Slytherin common room. They all look quite upset that they have to waste an afternoon off being nagged by a teacher for something they didn't do. But for Draco they can go a lot to shit. He doesn't have the time or desire to know who the hell bothers to receive an afternoon of reprimand.

"If I find out again that a student in my house is doing that kind of stupid thing one more time, I will not hold back, I swear by Salazar that I will move heaven, sea and earth to have them expelled." Nobody flinches too much. "This year his behavior has been terrible, every week I have to lower points to my own house and take charge of the detention of at least three students. If this is because I am being too soft, then forget about me, there will be no further consideration, and I will not hold back from lowering the house four hundred points if necessary. Merlin! Get that face off, Joanne."

"It's not fair that we pay for it! Jerome screwed up those fags and the Quidditch team was the one-"

"You're right, eighty points less every time one of you uses the word 'fag' and when I run out of points, I will suspend you from the Quidditch tournament, I will not allow you to do that kind of stupid thing while Slytherin is in my charge."

The reproaches are not long in coming, Jerome is furious and many boys are questioning them. Slytherin hasn't lost a single time since Draco started in command and to his pride it's best to keep things that way. Malfoy doesn't want to lose, but there are more important things.

"Everyone go up to your rooms, I don't want to know more about your stupid kiddiness for today. And for those of you who have been behaving, understand that none of this will affect your performance or grades, especially now that EXTASIS are on the way."

They all go back to their rooms amid murmurs and curses that they think Draco can't hear, but he does. And his words are so silly that they don't even bother him. Lives a life as an Ex-Death Eater and he've heard worse than "blood traitor."

  
By Thursday of that week the waters seem to be much calmer; everyone was freaking out over the Hogsmeade outing next week and the loads of to-dos before the holidays. And of course, the long-awaited Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff match for which Draco had been accompanying Neville to team practices despite the horrible freezing weather outside. Except for the days when he had to rehearse with the choir, of course. Haven would never forgive him if he canceled a choir rehearsal, and Draco couldn't afford to cancel either, much less now that they were entered into a contest.

And his plan to tell the principal about the contest was pretty easy. They would make a presentation at the last supper before the students went home to their families and Draco would take it upon himself to convince her over the holidays by inviting her to tea. It was well known that Draco had a talent for afternoon tea, he was a pureblood after all.

"You guys are doing great. Anya, please raise your tone higher, I can't perceive you among your classmates. Edward, go to the back, you're covering up Evan. Connor, please I need you on the other side, yeah, right between Natalie and Felicity."

A chorus of long "Yes, teacher" is heard as the boys make movements and settle on the steps one behind the other.

"Mr. Malfoy!" Haven Kingsley rushes into the great hall with a smile that spreads from ear to ear. "Mr. Malfoy!"

"What's going on? I can hear perfectly, Miss Haven."

"Now what did you do Hav?" Evan raises his head between his peers with a smile that Draco wouldn't describe as a good omen, mainly because Haven being late for a rehearsal this excited couldn't mean anything good.

"None of your business, McGregor, I recommend that you meddle in your own business."

"Tsk."

"So...?"

"Oh." Haven smiles, biting her lip. "Well, I felt guilty for giving you all the burden of talking to Miss Miner - I mean, the principal, of course. So this morning it occurred to me to take charge on my own, so I just told you that you entered us in the contest. You're welcome."

When Draco was younger, probably at fourteen or fifteen he discovered that if he played chess with Crabbe or Goyle for more than fifteen minutes a little tic would appear in his left eye, then with the arrival of the fucking dark lord and his family getting him into shit that they were too much. Too much for a sixteen year old who hardly knows enough about the world around him to have to choose a path without favorable options. Everything about him during that time was a stress that consumed him, left him without sleep, and became thinner. He lost any trace of the tic despite everything, not even the war made it come back to him. But here is this girl who cannot measure more than 5'5 and makes her tic return in less than a mandrake cries.

"Did what?" The way he asks is slow, as if a large part of him expected this to be a trick of his mind, as if this girl hadn't led Draco to the wolf's mouth to be mercilessly devoured.

"I only told him that you signed us up for this choir contest, and that I didn't want it because it was a big Christmas surprise."

"For God's sake, Haven," Evan murmurs in the background, tugging at his blonde curls in exasperation.

"Who's God?" Connor asks to which Felicity shrugs.

"I'd better go see the director as soon as possible or else it'll be worse for me, shit..." Draco picks up his coat and briefcase in his arms and adjusts his neck because if he looks worse than he knows feels she will probably kick him. "Please go to your common rooms, we'll see you tomorrow."

"Do you want us to accompany you, Professor?" Connor asks, coming down the steps. If he wasn't shitting himself, he would hug this child, but he only denies with a smile that he hopes that they'll leave him alone.

"It's very kind of you, Connor, but I'm afraid I have to take care of this."

The walk to McGonagall's office down the hallways isn't very comforting. He bumps into a couple of prefects who are doing their usual rounds, but he doesn't stop to give a proper greeting because he feels that the later he talks to the headmistress, the more she will get mad at him for being such an idiot that anyone defies his authority.

Shit, he can even imagine the headmistress with a pocket watch in her hand counting down the minutes until Draco deigns to face his fate.

That is until he is finally in front of the door of the woman's office and this must be his record time in getting there so fast to the place, but he does not have time to breathe one last time because before he even considered knocking on the door, Minerva is already asking him to enter.

"Good evening, Director McGonagall."

"Good evening, Professor Malfoy, I'm sure I know why you're here so let's avoid the fuss. Tea?"

"Uh, yes, please." Draco sits in one of the chairs across from the headmistress's desk and watches his teacup fill up.

"Sugar?"

"Oh, no. Thanks."

"Right." The woman pulls her half-moon glasses up the bridge of her nose and crosses her hands on the table. "I've known Miss Kingsley for a couple of years, and I'm think I want you to explain the situation to me without the girl's lengths."

Draco clears his throat. "Well, Miss Kingsley entered us in a choir contest against all the magic schools in the region, I was not aware of this until she told me."

"How long have you known about this?"

"Uh, two weeks, maybe..."

Minerva nods, holds her small cup, and brings it to her mouth. "That's too long, if you ask me, things like that should be reported to me directly at the time. I hope this situation doesn't happen again for your sake, professor." Draco shakes his face serious. "And since you didn't come to tell me about this I will dare to let you know that your punishment will be to take care of the Christmas and New Year dinners this year for the students who will not go home."

"Does that mean I have to stay?"

"You are correct, Professor, and I want to think that you have no problem with my sentence, am I wrong?"

"Of course not, Director."

The woman nods satisfactorily. "I imagine you have classes tomorrow, so I'll let you go for now. Goodnight."

"Good evening, Director."

**NEVILLE**

The best thing about December mornings is being able to go out for a run without the usual bunch of teenagers trailing him all morning, so Neville gets up that Friday at what Harry would call an insane hour and goes out for a run across the field. Quidditch while listening to Harry's MP3 which to his regret only has Muggle songs from something known as The All-American Rejects and Cage the Elephant.

Thirty laps seems to be enough that morning when the chilly wind begins to chill his toes and he decides it's best to go back inside for breakfast. His belly is roaring like he's eaten a mountain lion and he walks into the castle with a smile, until Harry pulls him by the arm into the dining room preventing Neville from going to his room to change. Lots of glances cover him and his face flushes completely.

"Harry, what is it?"

"It's Teddy's birthday, come on, Evan McGregor asked me to take you as soon as possible."

"I'm not presentable!" Harry watches several students giggle with cheeks as red as Neville's.

"I think they like it." Neville punches Harry who continues to laugh. "Don't get grumpy, we're all excited for Teddy's thirteenth birthday."

"Professor Longbottom! Can Connor Tremlett come to our table?” Evan approaches the pair of teachers with a pair of puppy dog eyes.

"Of course I do, Evan, don't even ask."

"Thank you! By the way... it looks great, professor." The boy nods flushed and Neville can imagine Harry behind him covering his mouth to keep from laughing.

"Just go get Connor, Evan."

"Right."

Harry pats him on the back standing next to him and Neville groans. "Don't even mention it, give me your robe."

"But it's my Gryffindor Quidditch robe! What about loyalty?"

"I wore this all my years as a student, loyalty is screwed up for me right now." Harry nods with a smile, extending the robe to his partner. Even he can hear the nervous giggles from the closest girls at the Slytherin table.

Teddy soon appears at the door of the great dining room accompanied by Victoire Weasley, Neville sees out of the corner of his eye how Connor and Evan whisper to each other before they all yell a loud "surprise!" which causes Teddy to change his hair color from pale pink to bright red. A smile is drawn on his face when all his companions run to ruffle him hard.

Evan and Connor present a gift to each other just after Evelyn hands him a small tube wrapped in gold foil. Victoire stays by her side even as everyone gathers to break the huge chocolate cake the elves made just for the occasion.

That morning isn't too bad after all, Harry mentions something about how Remus was as much a chocolate lover as Teddy and the boy smiles happily. Then Teddy looks at Victoire with dreamy eyes and he is so much like Sirius that no one would doubt for a second that Edward Lupin was his son.

The days go by too slow for Neville's liking who is more than eager to see Ernie at the bar next Saturday than he was about to grade the freshmen essays.

Notes and more notes about the famous magic pine used in the magic yule were giving him a huge headache that was beginning to be unbearable.

"You won't believe what I'll do on vacation." Draco appears in the staff room with raised eyebrows and folded arms. Nothing to indicate a good new. "Now I am forced to spend my yule at Hogwarts and I have to take care of decorating all this crap."

"Shit, if you ever mention fucking yule one more time I'm going to rip my eyelids off."

"Yule sucks."

"Agh! Fuck you."

"I still don't see you tearing your eyelids off, Longbottom."

"Shut the fuck up, Draco." Draco leans back in his chair and snaps a cup of tea that arrives right at the table next to him.

"What will you do during the you-know-what-thing?"

Neville rolls his eyes and snorts. "As usual. I'll sit by the fire pit, make one of those homemade tomato soups, and go to sleep thinking how much I wish I had a cookie, sinking into my misery."

"Man, that sucks."

"I know but-"

"I'm talking about soup, who eats soup of their own free will?" Neville growls crossing one leg over the other. "Why don't you invite MacMillan over to your place?"

"Do you think he will choose me over his family? I don't even know if we are the kind of friends who occasionally send mail to each other."

"That's because you never make any kind of movement."

"Oh, look who's talking...

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Don't pretend you don't know." Neville smirks when Draco's brow furrows a lot more than at first.

"I have to go."

"Why?" Neville asks with feigned innocence before seeing Draco stand up ready to go.

"See you tomorrow afternoon."

DRACO

The Hufflepuff team gathers in a large circle around both professors. The weather was too horrible to be outside, especially for a Quidditch practice, but since Slytherin was suspended until February for his mischief with Felix Felicis, Draco had to do something during his afternoons not to freak out with boredom, and if anyone came To win this match, he preferred it to be Hufflepuff and not Gryffindor. Now that Potter was in command it wasn't certain that they would take a leading role on the house cup marker. McGonagall might have Dumbledore fever.

And Draco didn't need to lose for magic points taken from the tip of the-

"Is this formation okay, Draco?" Neville points to the boys in front of them. At the front Captain David Everly who held his ancient fire bolt in his hands and beside him his striker, Paris Green. The rest of the team was scattered in a strange combination where the seeker, Wolfgang Goldstein was in the background.

Draco watched the scene in horror and shook his head flatly over and over.

"Your seeker has disadvantages against Gryffindor, his seeker measures the same as my hand, that makes him totally fast and the last time he was in the center, that way he has a better chance of finding the snitch. Wolfgang, you are very tall, take that to your advantage, I want you to be in the center And you... Renée I want you to move to her left."

"Are you sure?" Neville asks nervously.

"Yes, I know what I'm doing." Draco snorts. Renée, hasn't John Davies ever asked you out?

The girl groans under her breath and twists her lips. "I've told him a million times that I'm not interested, but he never understands."

"You see it? If the Gryffindor seeker is interested in Renée, he will let her go so she can protect Wolfgang from the bludger."

"Isn't that cheating?"

"It's not written in any book that I cannot use the infatuation of my students to my advantage in the field." Draco shrugs and Neville curls his lips in agreement.

So the lineups change completely. Wolfgang Goldstein is in center accompanied by striker Renée Berry to his left. The guardian, David Everly in the background being protected by Paris Green who was on the right just behind the hunter Hugo Stravinsky. On the other side the last two hunters, the brothers Helga and Deymond Princhester.

They played lined up like a barricade, the only ones who could separate were the couple formed by Wolfgang and Renée.

The boys had no problem playing this way. The Princhester brothers were very good at playing as a team, they complemented each other so well that somehow their energy spread to the rest of the team. David blocked every quaffle Draco sent and Paris prevented a bludger from hitting her teammates at least six times.

"I think they're ready for the next game."

After long training sessions that week, the Friday of the Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff game finally arrives. The stands were full in all the houses. The Slytherins were excited to see Gryffindor lose, the Ravenclaws supported their fellow Hufflepuffs and the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs supported their respective house with pennants and painted faces.

The screams of excitement were strident, the girls supporting the little Gryffindor seeker, Penny Lambert who was red to her ears from seeing her friends exclaim her name with a big banner.

Neville and Draco sat together on the Hufflepuff bleachers. Neville had made a funny face after seeing how warm Draco was, with at least a sweater and a green corduroy coat. Not counting the scarf and thick woolen gloves.

"Shut your mouth," he said as soon as he saw Neville's intentions to laugh. The man smiled and nodded, pretending to close his mouth with a latch.

"Good morning Quidditch lovers!" A huge cheer resounds, Teddy Lupin nods with a smile before taking the mic once more. "As we all already know, this week's match is led by Gryffindor who by the second match of the year has already shown great confidence on the field. Darrell Jones, followed by Milton Li and the adorable Penny, man, the girls are crazy about the Gryffindor seeker. Leonor Byrne, our next major league player and long-awaited hunters, uh…" Teddy's hair colors changing from ash blonde to bright red. "Victoire Weasley who's preceded by a long standing reputation with four uncles on the team, John Davies and the famous Levi Taylor."

The din is louder when Victoire and Levi are named. It was no secret that many considered them attractive and Davies even had a kind of fan club. Draco scoffed secretly, Teddy was too obvious how much he liked Victoire and from the girl's response, it seemed like the feeling was mutual.

"Hufflepuff comes onto the field! Am I seeing a new lineup on the Badgers team? Amazing! David Everly is in the back of the lineup. Renée Berry leads by protecting Wolfgang Goldstein and alongside her the unstoppable Paris Green, Hugo Stravinsky and the intrepid Princhester brothers. We'll see how this exciting game turns out. Professor Potter enters the field."

Harry appears in his long Quidditch robe and the trunk with each of the magic balls to play with. He says a few words to the students, the basic rules of the game, Draco guesses, and then sends them to heaven, they all soar on their brooms as Harry Potter takes the whistle between his fingers and then the game begins.

The bludgers take off in the sky, and the first to hit one is Paris, who sends it straight to Levi Taylor, the girl is booed. The bludger is blocked by Milton Li and Leonor Byrne rushes to shove a quaffle into the opposing team's hoops.

"That's ten points for Gryffindor! With a great pass, Leonor Byrne opens the scoring. David doesn't look happy, let's wait to see his attack." The training begins again under the excited shouts of the students. Wolfgang continues searching for the golden snitch without success and Victoire flies to the other end of the court. The Princhester brothers fly to the center of the field, Helga swoops down when a Quaffle falls lost in midair. The girl rushes to punch for a touchdown for Hufflepuff and Leonor Byrne blocks it. A boo from Hufflepuff resounds and Gryffindor celebrates. "Oh dammit!"

"Sir, Lupin, watch your language!"

"I'm sorry, Director!" Teddy's hair turns red again and the students laugh. "Hufflepuff misses this chance, but it doesn't matter, it looks like Hugo is over- Oh, damn, damn. John, that bludger is going to hit Victoire! Got damn."

Teddy is on his feet, leaning towards the field, his hands are fully gripping the fence and the people in the stands are just as concerned as he is looking at the girl. John is slow to react, but Milton flies with great speed towards Victoire, she is moving on her broom, but another bludger wants to hit her. Renée bites her lip and flies quickly to hit the second bludger.

Victoire is safe, high-five with Milton and gives Renée a nod. Principal McGonagall again scolds Teddy for his vulgar language. The game resumes in a matter of seconds. And Victoire scores twenty points for Gryffindor. Hugo and Helga are not far behind, and they score thirty managing to be on par.

Time passes, John Davies continues distracted trying to talk to Renée while she ignores him and takes care not to lose sight of Wolfgang on the field. Suddenly there are ninety Gryffindor points and Hufflepuff barely gets eighty.

A small flash shines right in front of Teddy and the boy can see Wolfgang flying towards him and little Penny following him. Teddy ducks down just in time to dodge the two boys. "In the name of Helga Hufflepuff! That was fast, the snitch is already in the game, ladies, gentlemen and others. We'll see who will win the victoire in this game." Several laugh at the bad joke, including Neville and Draco can't help but put a hand to his forehead. "Wolfgang flies like lightning, he's nowhere near the snitch, come on, buddy, you can and oh, look at that! Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes. Gryffindor wins thanks to the golden snitch caught by Penny Lambert! What a game. It gave me the creeps."

The entire Gryffindor team comes down to congratulate Penny, Darrell carrying her in his arms celebrating. The Hufflepuffs also get down to the ground and come over to shake hands with the opposing team. Evan McGregor and Connor Tremlett climb the fence alongside Teddy, who greets them with a smile and slaps Connor on the shoulder when he sees him in Hufflepuff colors.

"Well, it seems we lost, what a pity." Neville shrugs before walking down the bleachers to congratulate Potter who is waiting with the Gryffindor boys.

"Are you not the least bit upset?" Draco stops him by taking him by the arm. Neville denies with a smile.

"I'm not an amateur, and we can make up for the points we lost in class today." They both turn to watch Evan and Teddy fight over the microphone. Neville cackles before turning his attention to Draco again. "You look a lot more upset than me and it's not even your team."

"I guess I tried to-

"Good game, Neville." Harry reaches his side putting his left hand on Neville's shoulder and waving his right hand in greeting.

"Thanks Harry, but it was Draco who trained my boys this time."

Draco snorts. Yes, of course, and now that Harry Potter laughs because he has no talent even to coach a school Quidditch team well. Thanks, Longbottom.

"Oh, so... good job Professor Malfoy, that was a great lineup."

"Uh." Draco didn't expect that. Clears his throat and looks away... embarrassed? "Yeah, thanks, well... they played well too."

Harry smiles at him.

Saturday comes so fast that they hardly notice it. The afternoon caring for the third years leaves them exhausted, but Draco still feels ready for a beer. The week before December holidays was always the heaviest. With students coming in with millions of questions that anyone would call silly like, "Is it okay if I use muggle ink for my essay on jicama root?" Draco definitely needed a break. Especially now that he also had to stay to organize dinner for the students who had to stay at Hogwarts.

The three men arrive at the gates of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes at nine o'clock. The snow wasn't being a pain in the ass that night so they weren't wearing any spells to keep warm and just wore coats.

"Are you sure I look good?" Neville asks. He was wearing black leather pants and a red tank top under his gray coat, even wearing a pair of brown boots.

Harry nods with a reassuring smile patting him on the shoulder. Draco is about to speak when Ernie appears from the crowd of people with a smile and Neville seems to tense up because, yes, Draco had to admit it, the boy looked good. He was wearing black jeans and a gray coat rolled up on his arms, which somehow gave him pale skin a bit of color.

Draco felt foolish at the time. He was simply wearing a white shirt, black pants, and his Slytherin robe. Potter was the same case.

"I'm sorry for the delay, Hannah asked me to save some reservations. We're leaving?"

"Uh, y-yes of course don't worry." Neville says. And Draco thinks at the time that if MacMillan hasn't realized how much Longbottom likes him, it's because he's just an idiot.

The four walk in the direction of Hog's Head, but enter an alley where they find a fence that has on the facade the portrait of two women looking into each other's eyes. Ernie mutters a password and the wall opens allowing them to pass. Draco can make out multi-colored lights coming out of an entrance at the other end of the small room. An elf receives them and hands them an envelope. Ernie thanks him and guides everyone inside the place.

The music hits Draco's ears right away. There are too many people in the place, some of them are dancing and others are just at their tables drinking. His heart stops when he sees two girls kissing with no one paying any attention to them.

"Neville, where are we?"

"Oh well, it's a... it's a gay bar."

"Shit, and why is Potter there?"

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asks with his fingers curled around Neville's arm.

"You got into my conversation with Ernie."

"Shit..."

"Here it is, this is our table." Ernie stops at a table in the back. It's lucky unless he's away from the dance floor. "You guys want something? I can go get our drinks."

"Oh, I know their tastes, I'll accompany you."

Ernie nods with a smile and Neville walks with him towards the bar, leaving Draco alone with Harry Potter. The man looks around and Draco just waits for a reaction, a disgusted face or whatever now that Neville is gone. But there is nothing, not even when two boys walk into a bathroom and their intentions can be seen.

"It's a good place, don't you think, Professor Malfoy?"

"Why do you keep calling me that? I feel like I'm talking to one of my students." Draco leans into his arms. The music was too loud.

"You said that- well, I figured I had to keep it formal with you."

"Uhm."

Silence settles between the two again, Harry is playing with the napkin holder and Draco is looking around too self-consciously. There's a too pompous boy in the center of the court. He's wearing a horrible coat that looks like artificial animal fur and several boys are coming up to him to dance with him. Malfoy looks away quickly when a boy at the table across from him watches him. He's a handsome, red-haired guy with his hair tied up in a bun and a half-buttoned ministry shirt that reveals some tattoos.

Neville and Ernie arrive with their drinks amid some giggles and don't stop to talk when they decide to finish their drink to disappear onto the dance floor. Draco looks at the drink in front of him and snorts because he doesn't even like phoenix vodka. Potter for his part looks quite pleased with his brandy.

The night starts off badly and Draco just wants to get out of there.

"Harry! What a joy to see you here." A tall man approaches Potter with outstretched arms and the two embrace. "I never thought I saw you, well... in a place like this."

"I'm accompanying Neville on his date, Draco and I are keeping each other company." Harry extends his hand to point at Draco and the man spins around with almost inhuman speed.

"Oh... Malfoy! What, God, who would say... uh-"

"HARRY?" An annoying voice comes from the bar and Draco doesn't even have to turn to know who it is. "The man, the legend. Harry Potter, what the hell are you doing here?"

Seamus Finnigan arrives right next to Dean Thomas spilling some of the drinks he was carrying on a tray. Draco winces at the noisy man.

"I was telling Dean that I accompanied Neville on his date, but it's more of a pretext to come see you. How have you been?"

"We're fine, we're gay and we're married." Seamus responds showing his hand with the ring.

"We would have invited you, Harry, but it was secret. Seamus's mother wouldn't allow it and he said 'hell, let's go to one of those Muggle places' and we went to Holland."

Harry smirked, getting up to shake hands with the two men. "Well, I'm glad you're together now. I always imagined it, though I must say I'm surprised you're not in the fireworks business, Seamus."

"Oh, yeah." Finnigan adjusted the lapels of his jacket and smiled pompously. "I worked for a time at the Witch Cats stadium, then the circus until I ran into Dean and he offered me a position for special effects here. You'll see it when tonight's band arrives."

"And what have you done?" Dean asks taking a seat at the table, Draco assumes he's being brought into the conversation.

"I took the Defense Against the Dark Arts position this year, I'm a teacher now." Seamus hits him friendly as a congratulation.

"What about you, Malfoy?"

Draco licks his lips and gulps down his drink to clear his throat. "I'm a potions teacher at Hogwarts. Slytherin head of house."

"That doesn't surprise me, you were very good when we studied." Dean nods smiling. "Well, congratulations, man. Draco nods silently."

"Man, I sucked for that..." Seamus mutters with a pout. Harry laughs happily and Dean kisses him on the cheek.

"Well, it was a pleasure to see you gentlemen, but our band today is yet to arrive and we have things to fix. I'll bring you a bottle of marc, the house invites."

The two of them stand up quickly shaking hands with Draco before saying goodbye to Harry. Finally an elf appears with a bottle of Lady Willembur's pomace and Draco is the first to help himself. It doesn't take long for him to start feeling the effect of alcohol on his body until a man sends him a drink.

Draco can see Neville on the floor dancing alongside Ernie to one of those stupid Liam Hyland songs like they're really good. And he can't help but roll his eyes when Neville pretends to stumble to get closer to Ernie.

Then Dean Thomas takes the stage where he announces Black Cardigans and the screams increase when they announce that their first song of the night is their latest hit "Be-Sexual". Some girls at tables near his stand up ready to dance and Draco pours another glass of pomace, his fingers feeling too out of control and weak as he tries to hold the bottle of pomace.

Harry stops him by taking his hand and pulling the bottle out of reach. "That's enough, Draco." He hears him say, but he doesn't give a shit, he just wants to have more. "Draco, you are pale, you shouldn't-"

"Shut your mouth, asshole."

"No, I'm not playing games, that's all." Harry says in his commanding tone. And if he was one of her stupid admirers he might be scared, but he isn't and he doesn't give a shit about anything Harry Potter can say or do so he reaches out to snatch the bottle from his hands. Between the struggle Draco ends up throwing the contents of the bottle on both of them and Harry snorts. Draco laughs for a second until his pants feel too sticky. "We better go clean up."

Draco can feel Harry dragging him into the men's room, and his body feels strangely light.

Harry leaves it on one of the sinks and makes sure to hold it under his armpits so he can wipe his pants off, and from Harry's face, Draco guesses he looks pathetic.

"What the hell are you looking at?"

"You look funny with that face."

"My face isn't funny, asshole," he says between stammers and his words drag too far.

"Of course. Can you lean here while I clean up?" Potter points to the sink, Draco rolling his eyes and pulling away from Harry's grasp. "I think you're not very good at drinking... that's unexpected. The Weasleys have good resistance to alcohol, I thought it was a pureblood thing-"

Harry keeps talking and Draco stops listening at some point when he's too focused on Potter's arms and how much he wishes he hadn't made that mark on his arm. If his parents hadn't been so careless to mess with forbidden magic, if he hadn't been a coward. And it is at times like this where he wonders, if he had gone to Dumbledore in time, if he had fled or taken refuge with Harry Potter, would something have changed? Would his life feel as miserable as it does now?

The music increases outside the bathroom, Draco knows this song and it is actually one of his favorites "Solstice fire problems", Katleen Buteercup's guitar solo was the best part, no doubt. He knows this is the part where Alana Jules choruses with Zoe Rymar and then something inside him moves.

The bathroom lights are dim, a slight purple lighting, just enough to get a view of the place, not to have details, and Draco doesn't know if it's the light, the alcohol, the stupid voice of Zoe Rymar or the incredible solo by Katleen Buteercup, but bridges the gap between him and Harry and... and Draco kisses him.

It's not a good kiss, it's just a lip smacking that leaves a metallic taste on it and he deduces that some blood was drawn from his lip, but he stays that way for a few seconds before being pushed away by Harry. The man's eyes are open like two huge moons, his glasses are crooked on the bridge of his nose, and his hair is a mess. More than normal. And Draco can only wonder how he did that in such a short time.

"Fuck it, I want to go out." Draco twists around staggering in the attempt, Potter is there to hold him just in time. And he pulls him away. "Leave me alone, Potter."

"No, you're drunk."

"Oh, go to hell."

Draco squirms and Harry grabs him, he doesn't know if he can stop him because he's stronger or because he's more sober. "You kissed me. You're not in your five senses, let's just go back to the table, I'll go get Ernie and Neville."

"No, I'm-"

Draco vomits and the last thing he remembers is the stupid lighting in that horrible bathroom.

<https://zaryav.tumblr.com/post/636977509911642112/and-i-gotta-convince-myself-i-dont-want-it>

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Merry Christmas early! I hope you have enjoyed the chapter and the drawing I made about the last part. Hope everyone reading this has a happy holiday season or a quiet night. In my country there is still quarantine so please let us be careful with our health.


	7. You know? My thoughts are getting lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco wrinkles his nose. "McGonagall said she'll take care of them. She asked me to go to rest."
> 
> "Together?" Harry asks, still looking sleepy enough to be aware of space-time.

December, 2006

**DRACO**

The next morning nothing was clear in his mind, but if he was sure of one thing, it was that this wasn't his room.

The fireplace is lit and Draco can hear murmurs and laughter from outside. A horrible headache makes him squeeze his eyes shut, and then he realizes how dry his mouth feels, probably from drinking so much the night before.

"I don't want to do it." Potter's voice is heard behind the door, he seems to be annoyed.

"This is my chance, Harry, please." Neville pleads and Draco tries his best to sharpen his ears to find out what those idiots are talking about.

"Neville, he hates me, he's going to kill me if the first thing he sees when he wakes up is me."

"Guys, I have to go." A third voice makes an appearance, Draco hears Neville squirming instead of just hearing Ernie's voice. He's been through so many times that it's more of a predetermined state in his memories of Longbottom.

"Oh, yeah, right, me too. Sure. Harry, see you at Hogwarts, okay? Take care of Draco for me, see ya." Draco hears the door closing and he can almost imagine Potter's shocked face.

The sound of footsteps pausing outside the room freezes him. He must look awful with his tousled hair and clothes from the day before, and he shit, his breath must be the worst part. Why are there no mints anywhere? Draco shuffles in his place trying to fix his appearance as much as possible under the influence of a drunken night.

The door opens barely an inch, Harry Potter pokes his head out, which is more of a bundle of black hair as disheveled as possible, and blushes when he realizes that Draco is awake fully aware of his actions. .

"Hello." He says hello, fixing his clothes. He's not wearing his tunic and his hair looks rather like a bird's nest, much worse than when they were children and had a fight during a Quidditch match. "You want to eat? Ernie made hangover chicken soup. I'm not really sure that works, but you must be hungry I guess I don't know. Or we can buy something, the bar is not open yet, they have a blood-

"Can you shut up?" Draco winces painfully. "What time is it?"

"It's close to three o'clock." But there's some snow so it's not that noticeable I think."

"Uhm."

Draco nods trying to stand up, but as soon as he comes out from under the covers he realizes that he's not wearing pants. His face soon turned red when he quickly looked up at Potter and he barely looked away as flushed as he was.

"I-I didn't do it, Neville set you up to sleep... you were too drunk. I didn't see anything, sorry."

Draco wants a dragon to swallow him and spit him out in Scotland. Maybe on a cliff, he doesn't care, he just wants to escape this situation as easy as possible. "Don't get used to this, Potter."

Harry is shocked and chokes on his saliva, pathetic as he's, Draco regrets feeling so vulnerable right now because making people uncomfortable with these jokes is one of his favorite things. Maybe he only worked with people he didn't like one bit.

But Draco doesn't like Harry.

Harry Potter doesn't like him one bit. Harry Potter is a mustard seed in a jar of walnuts, nothing special, just something strange, small and irrelevant, just a tiny fraction of his life. Nothing special happens with Harry, he's just his old childhood enemy.

"I'm s-sorry, I think I'd better let you get...uhm, dressed." Harry practically runs out of the room leaving Draco alone.

The last day of school isn't normal for anyone, much less for Draco who has to deliver a decorating plan to Principal McGonagall before dinner, and also needs to receive the list of students who will stay at Hogwarts during the holidays. All this while several owls fly through the halls dropping sweets canes on the heads of the unfortunate fool who's walking to their classes.

Draco walks into his living room as annoyed as can be and feels thirty-six pairs of eyes fix on him as he slammed the door. Draco regains some of the dignity that has fallen to the ground and snorts under his breath.

He takes one of the notes Principal McGonagall gave him and hands it to Jerome, who mutters some stupid thing that Draco isn't in the mood to ask him to repeat, the least he needs to do is babysit a child in detention.

"I guess we're all aware that winter holidays starts this Monday." Some students make festive noises and others snort in annoyance. "And it's a mutual agreement between us never to send homework during Christmas, but I reviewed his assignments for the past few days, and...” Draco brings the palm of his hand to his face and shakes in a tired voice. "You're my worst group, okay? And I don't want to see bad grades, especially in the students of my house, so to upload your grades you'll write eight scrolls on dragon scale substitutes, two scrolls on The Natural Conservation Agreements of Magical Animals from 2001 and an extra couple about the investigations of Tomás Alebrie."

A girl raises her hand from the back, Draco speaks to her. "How many points will this assignment go up?"

"The necessary ones to have the opportunity to pass with Exceed Expectations, because I don't expect less from my students and if I have to send them more homework during the year, believe me I'll, and I wont be happy to waste my free time grading assignments that shouldn't be necessary. Now, get out your cauldrons and ladles because we'll talk about how to properly mix a purple garlic to practice dissolving dragon scale substitutes. Quickly!"

Draco wanders between the Slytherin and Gryffindor work tables until class is over and some students say goodbye to him wishing them happy holidays. The last one is Florence, who, as is the custom with each teacher, decides to give him a gingerbread cookie in the shape of a bell. He thanks with a smile seeing Neville appear in the doorway with a mountain of papers and books on his arms.

"Nice to see you this sweet afternoon, Draco." Neville walks in and drops the stack of papers on Draco's desk. He raises an eyebrow and Neville grins at him before breaking the news.

"Is Potter staying too?" Draco tries hard not to sound annoyed. He hadn't fought Harry in a week, and apparently, they were on good terms since the bar incident and his drunkenness. Longbottom nods calmly. "And what is all this for?"

"They are the reports that must be signed for the permits to go out to Hogsmeade, the director asked me to give them to you, I suppose it is part of your punishment for playing rock star."

Draco groans wearily and tousles his hair. A couple of strands fall across her forehead, but he doesn't even care anymore.

"Will many boys stay?"

Malfoy picks up the chart with the list of students who will be staying for Christmas and quickly reads it. "Six Gryffindors, thirteen Ravenclaws seniors; I guess it's because of the N.E.W.T.s. Also two Hufflepuffs and four Slytherins.

"It's not too many, not even a table will be filled for Christmas. Worry about not staying for the Easter holidays. All seniors stay, even junior Ravenclaws." Neville paces the room, eyeing the desks one by one. "Remember when we hated each other in school?"

"What are you talking about? I still hate you."

"If that's your way of telling me you love me, that's fine." Draco clicks his tongue sarcastically. "If someone had told me that we would end up speaking like decent humans with no spells involved, I would not have believed it for a second."

"I didn't even know that I would end up here as a teacher."

The two are silent for a moment until Neville asks again. "What did you have planned for your future Draco?"

Draco shrugs, starting to play with his feet. That's something he does whenever he's nervous. "I'm not sure I thought of that. The first years of my life were just manners classes, private tutoring, parties with my father's friends, the kind of shit they make you do when your family is 'pure blood' And then it was all about surpassing Harry Potter in absolutely everything he did... until the war came and when I opened my eyes, I was already in front of... who-should-not-be-named, hoping that him not kill me." Draco takes a breath when he feels his voice cracking. "I always thought that he would inherit my father's fortune and that he would not have to do anything else. I considered making the Quidditch team, but, you know, my father had other ideas in mind for me."

"Well, that's all over, okay? Y-you don't have to compete with anyone, and you can still support all these kids, like you have Connor and Noel."

Draco smiles, opens his mouth to take a deep breath, and shoves Neville lightly in a playful way. "Did you want to be a sexy teacher?"

Neville snorts in scandal. "What the hell are you talking about, Malfoy?"

"Oh don't pretend you don't know, weren't all those Gryffindor girls pining for you when you got sick? Mr. Longbottom, can I put ointment on your neck?" Neville blushes and puts both hands to his ears as he hums to cover up Draco's bad imitation of teenage voices.

"I see you are a bit busy, professors."

"Madame Hooch," Draco says, straightening up in his place. Rolanda nods her head in greeting. "We were just playing around a bit. Something wrong?"

"Oh no, nothing. I was informed that my sister was hospitalized in a Muggle hospital in Brazil and I'll have to retire for a while. I wanted to say goodbye and wish you both happy holidays." Neville runs up to the woman and embraces her in a tight hug that is reciprocated with the teacher's bright smile, however, they can both notice the concern in her gaze and Draco also comes over to wish her well in the near future and her sister's speedy recovery.

"Do you have any idea what your sister might have?"

"No, I'm afraid not, Professor Malfoy, but I don't know much about Muggle disease and I'm terrified that it's a disease without a cure."

"As soon as you learn of the condition of your sister, feel free to write. I'll see what I can do." Rolanda takes Draco's hands and thanks with tiny tears at the edges of her eyes.

Neville is going home for the holidays and Draco is officially alone. Which sucks because he also has to take care of decorating the big dining room for the dates, and although Hagrid has been kind enough to leave the pine in place, Draco has no idea how to get started on the whole hanging ball and candle business.

He never took care of anything at his house, and it's not like Draco was going to waste time decorating his apartment when he was the only one who lived there. No one would care if he didn't hang the stupid ornaments in his house.

However, all these people seem to care too much, and he can't be a selfish bastard who has decided that being a killjoy at one of the most important holidays for wizards is his mission.

Draco flops onto one of the benches, quite exhausted from mulling over unimportant things like "what color should the spheres be."

"Need help?" Harry Potter walks into the great hall with the same stupid smile as ever. "It seems like you're not enjoying having to decorate very much."

"No, I have no idea how to start even, and McGonagall instructed the elves not to help me."

Harry laughs, as if what Draco said was the funniest shit he'd ever heard from him, and well, with friends like Weasley and Granger, he didn't doubt it. "Luckily he didn't say anything to me, so I can help."

"Are you sure? Because I know the boys are outside playing in the snow."

Harry shrugs under Draco's watchful eyes.

"I love decorating for Christmas, I never did it at my uncles' house, but when I arrived with the Weasleys it was almost a tradition. When I lived with Remus and Sirius it was almost an obligation to do so." Harry smiles wistfully. Draco licks his tongue between his lips.

"They were Teddy's parents... right?" Potter nods with a sigh right after.

"They died. But I try to pretend that didn't happen."

"Why?" Harry bites his lip.

"For Teddy, uhm... and for me. Somehow we both lost our parents. I lived with them for a while, during the holidays I stayed at their house. I took care of Remus in his last years, he... lost too much. His best friends, his parents, control over his body, and then... Sirius."

He can see the pain in Harry, Draco knew of Sirius Black's death almost immediately. Bellatrix kept screaming in front of the Alphard Black painting while the man denied shattered. He himself was terrified of his family and cried as much or more than Alphard every night in his room until he fell asleep.

Draco knew Edward Lupin well, a student noted for his intelligence who was a year ahead of him, he was serious and handsome, just as he remembered Remus in his years as a teacher. But he also used to be sent to detention for getting in trouble with Evan and Connor; where oddly enough, Evan wasn't the mastermind behind his jokes.

"Why doesn't he have Sirius's last name?" The two decided to start with the tree and in the end they opted for white spheres.

"Sirius never wanted to link his son with his family, the only ones who knew Teddy were Tonks, Andromeda and Ted. He even wanted to change his last name to Lupin." He says with a laugh. Draco smiles contagiously.

"They must have been very close."

"Oh, that's little. You couldn't have that pair separate, they used to send me to visit Tonks with Teddy to have the house alone."

This causes Draco to laugh out loud which is followed by Harry who leans over towards the box with decorations and falls almost crushing the decorations, causing both of them to laugh much more than before.

"Tonks was great..."

"Yes," Potter agrees.

"My mother came to invite her and her mother to tea when my father went on long trips. Once she almost convinced me to get a piercing."

"You? With perforations? What the hell stopped you?" He shrugs with a sideways smile.

"I guess my parents' ideas. My father found out about her visit and forbade us to see them again, we could not receive any of their owls."

"I'm sorry about that."

"What thing? That my father is an idiot or that I was not convinced to get a piercing?"

"That your father is an idiot," he says seriously before smiling. "And that your father is an idiot."

After Christmas dinner, Draco decides it's time to start the paperwork that McGonagall commissioned him before the end of the holidays, so he decides to start barely opening his presents the next morning. She received a couple of new scrolls, courtesy of being a regular at La Casa del Papel y otros, also a couple of socks from Pansy, a box of caramelized fruits, and a book on scent potions wrapped in a thong, as part of a traditional joke with Neville. The usual letters from his students along with some sweets he would first have to examine and to his bewilderment, a packet of tea from Mr. and Mrs. Peevtney that was not signed by anyone.

Of course Draco pulled out one of the envelopes and set about making tea for the entire afternoon of work that awaited him. At that moment an owl with a letter with the seal of the Malfoy family came through the window and dropped the letter on his desk. He sets aside his cup of tea and rushes to take the letter in his hands, he watches it carefully for a couple of seconds before deciding to ignore it as he has done since the war ended.

Draco looks out the window at some of the boys who have gone out to play in the snow as has been their custom since the first snow and smiles when he sees Evan playing next to Teddy and Cecyl, a Gryffindor girl. And he almost fell backwards as Harry Potter flew past him on his broom at the speed of the wind; he spills some tea on his sweater so he rushes to wipe himself with a napkin. Harry turns around, goes back to the window and greets Draco before giving him a signal indicating that he will go to his office.

Draco looks at the mess that is his office. There are a bunch of coats piled up on one of the chairs and he doesn't even stop to wonder when all of that got there, and his entire bookcase seems to be empty because all his books are in fact on the table next to his chair. the entrance. He does as much as he can by waving his wand in the air and arranges everything just before Harry shows up at the door with an embarrassed smile and the tip of his nose red.

"Hi," he greets.

Draco picks up a lock of his hair and runs it behind his ear in the best attempt he can make to appear relaxed. -Hello.

"I'm sorry I scared you." Draco snorts and laughs.

"You didn't scare me."

"Sure? I saw you spilled tea on yourself, didn't you burn yourself?" Harry advances towards him with the intention of looking for the tea stain on Draco's clothes, however, he steps back looking flushed.

"W-what?"

"Nothing..."

Draco turns around and is shocked when he sees the thong Neville sent him that morning. His blood runs up her neck and he is quick to hide it.

"Longbottom sent it to me." Harry's puzzled look tells Draco that he hasn't played well with his words. He shakes his head in denial, licks his tongue over his lips, and gasps a few times before correcting himself. "It's an old joke between us, we're not involved or anything."

Potter smiles, nodding. "Good to Know." The two are quiet for a couple of seconds, and oddly, Draco doesn't feel as uncomfortable as he would have hoped. "Do I help you? That looks tired"

"If you don't have a problem with missing a day off reading and signing reports, then an extra pair of hands wouldn't hurt." Potter smiles as he sits in the chair across from Draco's desk. He picks up a couple of folders and sets out to read everything. Draco mimics him, offers him tea and they work quietly for a couple of hours.

Draco's mind disconnects from the real world, which is normal when he's going through paperwork, but he curiously seems to be having a conversation with Neville; who is noteworthy, is wearing the most horrible Christmas sweater he has ever seen in his life. And Pansy particularly liked wearing the most hideous ugly sweaters, it was an essential part of her constant flirting with Aidan Lekser, a Ravenclaw senior.

The Neville in his head is singing some kind of Christmas carol that Draco can't quite recognize and then reminds him of how exaggerated he had been about his fight with Potter, to which Draco has to accept, he exaggerated too much.

Harry Potter didn't seem to be that bad, at least so far, and yet Malfoy couldn't say much. They didn't fight during the week after the bar, but that didn't mean they had a lot of conversations in that period, they weren't great friends and he didn't see himself rubbing shoulders with Potter in the near future.

"Is this letter from your family?" Harry asks, eyeing the envelope warily. The alarms in Draco's head go off and he doesn't wait any longer to snatch it from the hands of the man in front of him.

"You shouldn't touch people's personal things," he growls defensively.

"It was among the papers I took, I'm sorry."

"You should know that no one with a little common sense would touch a letter with a family seal, Potter."

Harry looks at him indignantly. "I already apologized, Draco. I didn't even read it or something."

Draco laughs wryly. "No, because that would have been the last straw."

"What is your problem?" Harry stands up quite annoyed. His eyebrows clench tightly against the bridge of his nose. And that for some reason annoys Draco.

"You're a bloody gossip, that's my problem."

"I only wanted to help you!"

"Seriously? Or can't you really live without sticking your nose into other people's affairs?" Harry snorts. _At what point did they come to this stupidity?_

"At least I don't put my mouth in other people's mouths." That stops Draco, _what the hell was Potter talking about?_

"What's that got-"

"You kissed me, that night at the bar. And you know what? I didn't make a big fuss about it, yet I touch one of your cards and suddenly I'm the most self-centered and evil man in the world." Him picks up his coat and gloves from him before slamming the door out of the office. "See you in the new year, Malfoy."

January, 2007

They don't talk to each other during the New Years Eve party, they don't hug each other at midnight, and neither looks at each other during the toast, and for some reason, Draco feels guilty.

And it's not "for some reason" because he knows perfectly well why he feels this way, and yet his pride doesn't allow him to apologize to Harry for having kissed him.

The idea crosses his mind at all times, the words he can say, the excuses, the apologies. But what do you say to someone after you kiss them? And not only that, you kissed him while you were so drunk that you didn't remember anything the next morning, and even though he must have killed you, he was kind enough to heat you soup and escort you to your room. Guilt gnaws at him inside and he's about to apologize when Jerome lunges at Evan and hits him non-stop. Potter gets to his feet as fast as he can and pulls them apart taking Jerome by the shoulders, while the boy growls in anger.

Draco runs up to Evan and holds him checking his head, hoping he doesn't have anything but a few scratches. Teddy tries to hit Jerome in response, but Draco stops him as best he can. The rest of the students run alongside Evan while Gilbert complains from his place.

Harry flushes with anger and clenches his jaw as if he's summoning all of his strength not to hit this boy. The rest of the students argue that he should be expelled. And everything is too much.

He has had too much of this situation.

"François, gather your things, you will go home."

"My punishment was to stay here, did you forget?" The smile on the teenager's face makes the blood in his body boil, but Draco is good at feigning serenity, so he seeks all the patience he has and smiles.

"To have punishment at Hogwarts you have to study here, and I am expelling you right now." Jerome's face warps, changing the smug smile to a face of fear and outrage. "So go get your things or I'll send everything you got to be burned."

"You don't have the authority to do that!"

"I'm kicking you out of my house, and I'll advocate to get you kicked out of school as soon as possible. So go get your things and wait for your parents. I don't want to see you here another second."

Jerome shakes off Harry's hold as he strides out of the Great Hall in the direction of the Slytherin rooms, muttering curses. Gilbert wastes no time and follows him. Draco calms his breath as he turns to attend to Evan.

"Why did he hit you?" A boy from Ravenclaw asks. Evan smiles with a shrug.

"The important thing is, that idiot won't hit anyone here again," Cecyl chides, squeezing Evan's hand and giving Teddy a quick glance.

"I'm afraid we all know the François family, so you'd better go home, the party's over," Harry says, pushing the other students towards the exit with a much more relaxed tone. Except for Evan, whom he of course takes to the infirmary to deliver something for the pain. The boys say goodbye to Evan and leave laughing toward their homes. "I think you should write to Principal McGonagall as soon as possible."

As expected, François's parents made as much or more scandal than Draco expected; It wasn't a surprise even when the boy's mother threatened to destroy the status of the Malfoy family and the sole heir to it, and Draco couldn't smile more when he answered a clear "fuck it."

Jerome had the same profile as his father, he was an exact copy, with black hair and brown skin, however, his way of walking and even speaking were totally a reflection of his mother. He wondered for a moment if people saw in his family the same as he sees in the François.

The night is long, as long as it can be once Principal McGonagall arrives and he explains the situation to her. The woman frowns moistening her lips with her tongue and she watches her student's parents attentively. She is clearly furious.

"Professor Malfoy, you may retire. You and Professor Potter look tired, I'll take care of this." She smiles at him wearily. Draco doesn't have time to apologize because what did Potter have to do with the conversation?

He doesn't need to dwell on the question because as soon as he leaves the principal's office, he finds Harry Potter sitting on the floor half asleep in a position that doesn't look very comfortable. He feels his heart stop for a second to go down to his stomach. Metaphorically, of course.

He approaches the man carefully and shakes him to wake him up. Which in itself is easy enough because Potter practically jumps in his place like a frog watching him expectantly.

"Are they finished?" He asks, wiping a small trickle of drool that runs down his cheek.

Draco wrinkles his nose. "McGonagall said she'll take care of them. She asked me to go to rest."

"Together?" Harry asks, still looking sleepy enough to be aware of space-time. Draco suppresses the slight blush that begins to color on his cheeks, looking away.

"No, Potter." He rolls his eyes in mock annoyance as a small voice in his head reminds him of the whole bar thing. "Actually... I'd like to talk to you first. Would you like a drink in the staff room?"

Harry watches him dubiously for a couple of seconds before nodding and adjusting his glasses. "Yes of course. Why not?"

Normally Draco doesn't like to share the cookie box he has hidden on the top shelf of potion books, however for today he can make an exception for Potter because he feels like a stalker who owes him more than stupid cookies he he even hid from his best friend.

The two of them sit face to face, the tea is already on the table and Draco hands him the box of cookies, he of course takes one, and luckily for Draco, it's not one of his favorites. And he's fine, he's a selfish motherfucker, he admits it. But in his defense, anyone would be if he could only get cookies of this quality once a year.

"What did you want to talk about?"

"From the... uhm, the- the kiss I gave you." Draco clears his throat avoiding Harry's gaze at all times. Harry straightens up in his place, clearing his throat under a loud cough because he accidentally swallowed a piece of cookie. "I wanted to apologize for having behaved that way. And I know it was not the first time. So I'm sorry that you had to put up with me like that twice."

"You know it's not a problem, Malfoy."

Draco sighs because yes, it is a problem if it is "Malfoy" and not just Draco to him.

"I kissed you, and that wasn't right. You should have hit me, and yet you didn't..."

"Because you were drunk and very unconscious. I think I should tell you that I tried absolutely nothing with you." Draco smiles much more relaxed, which infects Harry. "I was more worried that night that you would find out and be mad at me than I was about the fact that you had kissed me or whatever."

"You are damn strange, Potter. Only you give a shit like that, you know I would have hit you?"

Harry shrugs. "And you would have been fully entitled, Malfoy. But I was more concerned about not ruining the little breakthrough I had made with you to be honest."

And therein lies the fucking irony of life, Harry Potter, who went from being the most wonderful being, to the most petulant and hateful, had always been a damn angel among human garbage. The boy who defeated who should not be named, the boy who fought in a war they should never have lived through was here in front of him, Draco Malfoy, the stupid rich boy who let himself be branded as a Death Eater by asking him to be friends.

A smile settles on his face. "Do me a favor and call me Draco, Potter."

"Shouldn't you call me by my name too?" They both smile and it's a relief that Draco swallowed his pride for the first time with Harry Potter, because otherwise, he wouldn't have discovered how comfortable he can feel around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was something short one about Draco's (Neville and Harry) important relationships. Of course I want Draco to have some trouble opening up to new relationships and I consider him to be the type of person who hates change.
> 
> I hope if someone read this they liked it, and I always appreciate a bit of criticism to improve. English isn't my mother tongue so I apologize for any mistakes.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos? Comments? They are not necessary, but you would make me very happy if you left any.
> 
> Title obtained from song "Back to you" by Selena Gomez.
> 
> You can find the Spanish version in my Wattpad account (Zaryav): "Cuestión de tiempo."


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